


Countdown

by thetasteoflies



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Canon compliant for exactly one minute, Character Growth, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forgiveness, Getting inside Katara's head, Getting inside Zuko's head, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Piss poor communication, Sexual Content, Smut, Trust, a touch of fluff as a treat, anyway welcome to the countdown, enjoy your journey, if i write one more metaphor into this shit someone better come and kick my ass, katara fucks up, like one little cotton candy wisp, then back to angst, then not, we earned the E rating, zuko fucks up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 96,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetasteoflies/pseuds/thetasteoflies
Summary: Some things are inevitable. The progression of time. The rising of the sun. The phases of the moon. The catastrophic collision of two people who are fated to ruin, restore, and remake each other. In that order.Now breathe deeply and count backwards from ten.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 515
Kudos: 576





	1. Ten

**Author's Note:**

> fic playlist [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRtsHtQhJDkB-MpN0OY2yGoc1AQa6WaEJ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not a huge fan of canon re-tellings and yet that is how this story begins. please indulge me for this chapter. it's important to get inside Zuko's head here.
> 
> but, after this chapter, canon re-telling will be only occasional. and then our story will really take off. :)

* * *

* * *

“Ten.” Zuko let the word hang heavy in the air. It stayed suspended there for a moment, lingering between them, weighed down by loss and unanswered questions. Zuko focused his eyes on a distant wall, trying to find any distraction from the tightening he felt in his chest.

From his place across the cave, he could hear Katara shift and sniffle. The word floated to her ears, buoyed by the promise of understanding.

“What?” she asked, wiping her tears on her sleeve and turning to face him.

“I was ten when she left. My mother.” Zuko traced the jagged edges of the green crystals beside him with his fingers. He couldn’t face her. Not yet. He felt the familiar grip of grief squeeze his heart and steal the breath from his lungs. He clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palm, silently begging his nerves to focus on the pain in his hands rather than the pain in his chest.

Katara was standing behind him now. He had heard her footsteps approaching, but she had stopped a good five feet behind him, as if she were giving him space.

“Why did she leave?” Katara’s voice was gentle. Prompting but not demanding.

“She was…” he began. He heard the rustling of fabric once more and glanced over his shoulder to find her sitting. “...protecting me.”

A beat.

Two beats.

Three.

“That’s what my mother did too.”

Zuko felt his heart seize and stutter. Who was this girl? This girl he barely knew yet had chased and tormented? She had always been an obstacle, a formidable opponent, but just one more thing for Zuko to fight against. He didn’t know how to not fight her. He wasn’t sure if he knew how to not fight anyone anymore. Not fighting felt too much like giving up. Like weakness.

But Zuko was so tired of fighting. So tired of running. In his heart, he knew that kindness wasn’t weakness. He knew that sometimes it took more strength to love than to hate. But whenever he tried to act on those sentiments, the thought of his father eclipsed everything. He saw his father, looming over him as he knelt, merciless and threatening – no, promising – to burn any weakness out of Zuko.

_No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are._ His mother’s words washed over him. Drawing on his mother’s strength, he steeled his nerves. He took a breath and schooled his face into impassivity.

He finally turned to face her. She gave him a small smile. She got to her feet and offered her hand to help him stand.

“Katara,” she said as she pulled him up. She must have seen the small twitch in Zuko’s eyebrow before she continued, “That’s my name. We’ve never actually been properly introduced.”

_Katara_.

He assigned the name to every memory he had of her. _Katara_ , he thought. Every image that he had of her softened slightly. _Katara_. Before she had been the girl who travels with the Avatar. Fierce. Loyal. Powerful. But now she was Katara. Unstoppable. Unnecessarily kind. Beautiful.

_Beautiful_?

“Zuko?” She asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

“Yeah. I mean, yes.” He pressed a hand to his forehead as if trying to force the unsolicited thoughts back into the crevices of his mind that they had crawled out of. “That’s me. Sorry. I’m Zuko. But I guess you already knew that.”

“You could say that, Prince Zuko,” she teased.

“Uh, well,” he stumbled over his words. “I guess that’s true. But, please. Just Zuko.”

“Just Zuko,” she repeated. “Okay, just Zuko. I’m sorry I yelled at you before.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, turning away from her again. He wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. She hadn’t done anything to him that he hadn’t done to her a hundred times worse.

“No, it does. Of course, it matters.” She started toward him, tentatively reaching out a hand. She seemed to think better of it and pulled back before she continued, “It’s just that for so long, now whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.”

Zuko felt his heart clench again. But this time, instead of grief, he felt a wave of self-loathing wash over him. “My face. I see,” he said, reaching up to run his fingers across the ruined skin under his left eye. _You deserve it. You deserve her to hate you. No one loves you._ The hateful thoughts swirled around in his head, taking root in reality. _See,_ they hissed. _She thinks you’re repulsive. Evil. Unworthy_. Zuko could feel himself slipping away, falling into a bottomless chasm where he could let himself be devoured by his demons. He could finally stop fighting. He’d let them rip apart his soul until there was nothing left that could feel. Nothing left to hurt.

_No, Zuko. You must never give in to despair_. He heard his uncle’s words echo in his head as Katara spoke again, “No, no. That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s okay.” Zuko heard himself speak the words without knowing where they came from. _Don’t give in. You’ve learned. You’ve changed. Show her. Tell her._ “I used to think this scar marked me—” His words sounded braver than he felt. “—the mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever.”

“But lately?” Zuko realized as he spoke that he was telling himself just as much as he was telling her. “I’ve realized that I’m free to determine my own destiny.” He stared at the cave floor, lost in thought. “Even if I’ll never be free of my mark.”

“Maybe you could be free of it,” Katara said quietly.

Zuko’s good eye widened in surprise before he could stop it. “What?”

“I have healing abilities.”

“It’s a scar. It can’t be healed,” he said, willing her to understand the implications of the statement. Light flashed before his eyes and he felt a scorching heat on his face.

Reaching inside her tunic, Katara said, “This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole.” She showed him a small glass vial, decorated in blue and topped with a glass stopper in the shape of a crescent moon. It gleaned in the light as it dangled from her hand, and for just a moment, it looked like a something stolen from another world.

“It has special properties, so I’ve been saving it for something important. I don’t know if it would work, but…” Katara reached up as she trailed off. Tentatively, Zuko shut his eyes. _I trust you_. He felt her hand touch his face, delicately, as if asking permission. When he didn’t flinch, she caressed her palm against his scarred cheek and let her thumb rest lightly over his lips.

As she laid her hand on him, Zuko released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He unclenched his jaw and let the tension melt. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply relish the feeling of her gentle hand. He entertained her proposition. _Heal me, Katara. I want you to help me._ For a moment, he let himself live in a world where magic was real – where love was enough. Where water could soothe all wounds, even the ones that had cut through his flesh and soul. Where he could feel whole again. _Something important_ he repeated and hoped against hope that he could be something important. To her. To anyone.

All too quickly, his fantasy collapsed and crumbled. Realizing that the walls around them were actually crumbling, Zuko looked up in shock to find the Avatar blasting through the cave wall. Katara ran to meet him. Watching them, Zuko met Aang’s glowering eyes before being embraced by a relieved Uncle.

Zuko watched Katara disappear. He knew there were other people who needed her. Better people. Her friends.

He listened to Azula; he listened to Uncle. And as he ripped himself apart, he collapsed in on himself. He turned the pain of imploding into the rage of exploding. He fought furiously, but with every blow, he felt farther from himself. This time Zuko didn’t feel like he was slipping. This time he felt like he was drowning. And there was no force strong enough, not Uncle, not Katara, to save him then.

* * *

* * *


	2. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip from end of S2 to middle of S3.

* * *

* * *

The team was genially gathered in the main hall of the temple, sharing lunch. Zuko perched himself carefully on the outskirts of the circle, not wanting to intrude. Toph thew a grain of rice in his direction and said, “You can come closer, you know. We don’t bite.”

Zuko smiled weakly and shimmied a bit closer, trying to strike a balance between placating Toph and not angering Katara any further. She had given her conditional consent for Zuko to join the group but Zuko knew that if it had been her choice, she would have frozen him to a tree and left him for dead. Since then, she had refused to look at him, refused to meet his eyes. Zuko watched the muscles of her forearms tense as he made his way into the circle. He worried that the bowl and chopsticks that she was holding might become casualties of her silent anger.

“So,” Toph started. “I hear that you guys have quite a history,” she said gesturing between Aang and Zuko.

“You can say that again!” Aang said. “Remember the time that you broke me out of Zhao’s fortress?”

“I do. You saved my life after that archer shot me,” Zuko revealed. “I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“I couldn’t just leave you there,” he answered.

“Still…” Zuko shifted uncomfortably. He knew that Aang and his friends had already given him more chances than he deserved. He knew there was nothing he could do to change the past, but he was grateful for them giving him another chance. He wouldn’t waste this one. He would rectify. Zuko chanced a glance around the circle and found the group chatting amicably, his past transgressions forgotten for the moment if not forgiven. His gaze landed on Katara and he opened his palms toward her and offered her a small smile. A peace-offering.

Katara stiffened. She mumbled something under her breath and Zuko could see her chopsticks splinter under her crushing grip. Beside her, Sokka asked, “What was that, Katara?”

“I said,” she began. Her voice was low and calm. Dangerous. “And how did you repay us?” Her head snapped up suddenly and Zuko could see the venom in her eyes.

“Answer me!” she spat.

“I…I…” he stuttered.

Katara stood suddenly and threw her bowl and the remnants of her chopsticks to the ground. Toph shuddered at the sudden clatter. Aang began to reach toward Katara, but Sokka stopped him. Zuko sat completely still.

“Tell me, Zuko,” she said with more contempt crammed into the two syllables of his name than he thought possible. “How many times did you come after us?”

The silence in the temple was deafening.

“NINE!” Katara screamed the word like a curse. “Nine times you tried to capture us!” Her shrieks bounced off the temple walls, each echo laced with more pain than the last. “How could you ever expect us to trust you after that?”

Zuko hung his head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you’re sorry, are you? Well that just makes everything better, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t, and I know that.” Zuko set his bowl down and stood up slowly, keeping his hands in front of him to show her that he meant her no harm. “But I’m going to set things right. I’m going to make it up to you.” He took a small step toward her. She eyed him for a moment before sucking in a breath and huffing in exasperation.

“I don’t know how you ever could,” she said, shoving past him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko did his best to stay out of Katara’s way. The only problem was that Katara was everywhere. She did everything. The cooking, the washing. She kept track of time and went to find Aang when it was time for him to switch between bending practices. She gathered food and skinned whatever animals Sokka brought back from the forest.

Zuko resolved to work in parallel to her. That way, he could still be helpful, but if Katara never wanted their paths to cross again, they wouldn’t. He promised himself he would give her as much space as she needed for as long as she needed. He would wait.

He hung the laundry low enough for her to reach. He chopped vegetables for dinner and left them by her cooking pot. He fetched water and made sure it was boiling by the time that she liked to start preparing dinner. He watched the younger members of their group while they ate, making sure that they had enough food. He guarded the spoon from Sokka coming back for seconds before anyone else had finished their first bowl. If she noticed any of these things, she never said a word.

But every ring of her laughter and every flash of her smile chipped away at his resolve. It stung to see the crinkle of her eyes as she talked jovially with everyone else in the group. But as soon as she detected his presence, her features hardened, and her words evaporated. She was ice and no matter how low and steady he kept his flame, she would not melt.

At night, he kneeled before Uncle’s portrait and begged for advice. He told Uncle how he would give anything to know if he was making any progress at all. He asked what else he could do. He asked Uncle if maybe he would never be good enough to be forgiven by her. Uncle was silent.

Groaning, Zuko stood and paced around his room. When his restlessness didn't abate, he decided that he would go practice his forms until he was so tired that he would drop. Not wanting to accidentally light anything in the temple on fire, Zuko made his way for the forest.

Under the light of a full moon, Zuko easily found his way to a clearing with more than enough room to practice. He hadn’t been intentionally walking stealthily, but even his natural movements were silent. As he came upon the clearing, he found that he wasn’t the only one out of bed so late.

Katara stood facing away from him, twirling a ring of water above her head. She looked surreal in the moonlight, like a goddess in complete command of her surroundings. He watched her for a few moments, appreciating her fluid movements. How different they were from his own. Where he might punch, she would slice her arm through the air. Where he might push his fire away from him, she would pull an invisible force toward her and water would follow. He watched her pull more water from the nearby stream and add it to the ring above her.

All he saw next was a subtle shift of her weight and then suddenly he was flying backward. His back hit a tree trunk with a resounding thud and before he could react, Katara had his wrists pinned above his head with one hand and an ice dagger at his throat with the other.

“Trying to sneak up on me?” she growled.

“No, that’s not–” Zuko could feel her ice dagger pushing deeper into the hollow of his throat. “I wasn’t. I couldn’t sleep.” His fingers sparked, his body begging him to defend himself. He fought the urge and although the fire scorched his veins as he repressed himself, he willed himself to go slack in her grip.

She noticed but didn’t loosen her grip. She eyed him suspiciously.

“Katara, please.” He searched her eyes, trying to melt the ice in them. “I’m _so_ sorry. Please.”

“Don’t you dare.”

She moved away from him in an instant and between the laxity of his muscles and the suddenness of her movement, he collapsed onto the ground. She was gone before he looked up.

* * *

* * *


	3. Eight

* * *

* * *

Zuko became a ghost. There were entire days when Katara didn’t see him at all. She didn’t miss him.

One morning there was no boiling water for their breakfast. Katara hadn’t missed the fact that her chores around camp had gotten easier since Zuko showed up. The first night that she saw the vegetables for dinner chopped and piled neatly beside her cooking pot, she narrowed her eyes in distrust. She almost opened her mouth to ask the crowd gathered around the fire who had finally stepped up to help her when she caught a glimpse of Zuko wiping off his knife. His golden eyes glinted in the firelight. She kept her face stoic and turned back to prepare their meal.

She knew logically that it had been him getting up early to fetch water and trekking into the forest after a long day of training to hunt. She pretended to not notice how he always set aside a pile of peeled carrots for Momo. She pretended not to notice how he served himself last at every meal. She especially pretended not to notice the little sprigs of lavender that he clipped to the clothesline.

But Katara couldn’t help but notice that one morning there was no boiling water for their breakfast.

“Sokka?” she called.

“Hm?” Sokka replied, looking up from his whittling.

“Have you seen Zuko this morning?”

“Really, Katara? You haven’t noticed the giant missing bison?” He smirked and quirked an eyebrow in her direction. When she didn’t reply he said, “He and Aang took Appa early this morning. Remember? They’re going to some ruins or something to get the jerk back his jerkbending.”

Katara hummed, chewing her lip. She couldn’t help but picture the two of them, alone, flying over enemy territory. Zuko, without his bending and Aang, naturally gifted, but a far cry from a fully realized Avatar. _Come home safe to me,_ she thought.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The boys returned the next afternoon. Watching them demonstrate what they had learned, she admired the precision and symmetry of their movements. She watched proudly as Aang moved through powerful and graceful stances. He moved with a focus that she’d never seen before. Opposite him, Zuko mirrored his every move. Katara could make out his concentration from the furrow of his brow and the firm set of his lips. But his limbs were loose, his shoulders relaxed, and his eyes sparkled with a confidence that Katara couldn’t quite place. He looked…peaceful.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

When Katara went to start dinner that night, she was surprised to find Zuko standing at the counter, slicing daikon. She watched him for a moment. His knife moved quickly but a bit clumsily. _He’s more comfortable with the knife than he is with the vegetable,_ she thought. _Let your knife do the work_ , she critiqued as she watched him use too much wrist movement to cut through the daikon.

“Ahem,” she broke the silence.

“Ah Kat–“ Zuko said spinning around. He hissed and hid his hand beneath the counter. “Um...” he said, clearing his throat. “Hi.”

She stood before him. She waited. He looked at her expectantly. When he realized that she wasn’t going to say anything, he said, “Sorry if I’m in the way. It’s just that I usually…well…it’s not even sunset yet… And you usually don’t start until –" She held up a hand to stop him.

“I thought you guys might be hungry after your travels, so I wanted to get an early start on dinner,” she explained.

“Oh.”

“I’ve got it from here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine really. But, here” she gestured toward his hand. “Give me that.”

He offered her the knife in his right hand.

“No, not that,” she chided. “Give me your other hand, Zuko. I know you cut yourself.”

Before he began his protest, Katara reached down and grabbed his hand, bringing it to rest on the counter. Inspecting the slice along his index finger, she scoffed, “I thought you were supposed to be a master swordsman or something.”

“I am. But you don’t get to be that way without earning plenty of cuts. They don’t bother me much anymore.”

“Earning, huh?” she asked as she pulled a small stream of water from her waterskin. “This one hardly seems earned.” She coated her hand in water and wrapped it around the small cut, sealing the wound. “This one just seems stupid.”

“Yeah, it was” Zuko conceded. Then in a much smaller voice, “I was.”

She let go of his hand and discarded the water into a waste basin. Stepping back, she said, “You can go now.”

Zuko opened his mouth for a fraction of a second before shutting it again. He nodded and turned on his heel, pausing to light the fire beneath the water pot as he left.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The next time there was no boiling water in the morning, Katara found a scribbled note saying that Sokka and Zuko had gone on some hunting trip. _Come home safe to me,_ she thought.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara blinked her eyes, not trusting the image before her. After she shook her head and her father was still standing there, not a dream, but real flesh and blood, she bolted toward him.

“How?” she breathed.

“We kinda went to a Fire Nation prison,” Sokka said as Hakoda pulled them both into a hug. Her eyes shined with tears as she murmured into her father’s chest, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara could feel the frayed edges of her heart threatening to tear apart as she hugged her father before running back to Appa. The stiches that she had so carefully woven her heart back together with ripped as she watched her father disappear into the darkness of the tunnel. She bit back her tears as Appa lifted off from the crumbling temple.

She masterfully deflected fireballs from her position on Appa’s saddle, correcting her every movement for Appa’s speed and rapidly changing direction. As she shielded her friends from fiery rain, she felt a pang of pain in her chest. The crack in her heart throbbed and gave way to an emptiness that she couldn’t name. She wondered how she had let a piece of her heart get away from her.

At that moment, she saw a flash of red and without fully processing what or why, she reached her hand into the air. She caught Zuko’s forearm and pulled him into the safety of the saddle. His eyes were wild with anger and pain. But beneath that lay something Katara couldn’t quite name.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“We’re going to find the man who took my mother from me,” Katara said. There was no tremor, no doubt in her voice. Nothing but conviction. She would do this; the rest of the world be damned. Her mind was made up. Now it was a simple matter of who was with her and who was against her.

“And what exactly do you think this will accomplish?” Aang gave her a concerned look.

Katara scoffed. She didn’t want to explain. She didn’t want to justify herself. Most of all, she didn’t want to think anymore. She had spent years thinking. Years of blaming herself. Years of longing for justice. No; she was done trying to make sense to anyone but herself.

“She needs this, Aang,” Zuko’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “This is about getting closure and justice.”

“I don’t think so,” Aang said. “I think this is about getting revenge.”

“Fine. Maybe it is. Maybe that’s what I need. Maybe that’s what he deserves.” Katara could feel her blood begin to boil.

“Katara, you–“ Aang began, but Zuko cut him off.

“This isn’t about you, Aang. It’s Katara’s decision. Not yours or anyone else’s. Respect that. Respect her.”

“That’s fine, but I still don’t think…” Katara didn’t stick around to hear the rest. She put one foot in front of the other faster and faster until she was running. To where, she had no idea. It didn’t matter. _Anywhere but here._

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara climbed down the cliffs to the beach below the bluffs. She pulled her shoes off and hiked up her skirt as she made her way to the water. She sat on the water’s edge, burying her feet in the sand and letting the water lap at her legs. She breathed with the pattern of the tide. In and out. In and out. In and out.

When she heard the crunching sound of footsteps behind her, she didn’t bother to turn around.

“May I?” came a raspy voice from behind her.

She held out her hand and gestured forward, permitting him.

Zuko eased himself down beside her. They sat quietly for a few minutes, the only sound the gentle _whoosh_ of the waves and _slosh_ of water as it hit their legs. Katara looked down and realized that Zuko hadn’t taken off his boots.

“We’re still going,” Zuko said simply.

The sound that escaped Katara’s throat was a half-choked sob. In barely more than a whisper, she asked, “how?”

“I’ll find us a way. We can steal Appa. Or if you don’t want to do that, I can steal us another war balloon. There’s a Fire Nation outpost near here. I’d be gone a few days, but—”

“Zuko.”

“Or I could try to intercept a passing ship.”

“Zuko.”

“It’d have to be a small one, though. I think I can take five, maybe six people at once—”

“Zuko. Stop.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern darkening his features.

“Those are crazy ideas.”

“Oh.” His voice was tinged with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

That gave Katara pause. She turned and studied him. He sat in the sand, wet up to his knees, one hand behind him, supporting his weight, the other resting in his lap, palm up. His body language was open. Supplicative.

“Zuko,” she asked slowly. “What would you do for me to forgive you?”

“Anything.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“You should probably change,” she remarked as they made their way back up the cliffs. Zuko’s boots made a squishing sound with every step.

“Good idea,” he said as they approached camp. “I’ll get our supplies and meet you at Appa after dark.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The first rays of light began to kiss the horizon and Katara gave Appa a few appreciative scratches on his head. They’d been flying all night, save for their brief pit stop at the communication tower. She looked over her shoulder to find Zuko asleep and curled up on his side. As the sun rose higher, she heard him shift behind her.

“Eight.” Katara, said not turning around. She let the word hang heavy in the air. The wind from Appa’s rapid pace whipped it into Zuko’s ears and carried her pain with it.

A beat.

Two.

“You were eight?” he asked, understanding.

“When they took her from me.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

They crouched low behind a stone wall, watching a thin, old figure walk home with his groceries. Peering over the wall, Katara whispered, “that’s him. That’s the monster.”

Zuko nodded and pointed forward.

They stalked through the bushes to a bend in the road. Zuko pulled a thin rope from his pockets. He tied one end to a stump and stretched it taut across the road, securing the other end on another stump. Glancing sideways, he asked, “Are you ready, Katara?”

Katara felt her pulse in her throat. This is what she wanted. This is what she needed. Exhaling a shaky breath, she said, “yes.”

From behind a boulder, they fixed their eyes on the approaching figure. The old man seemed to stop every few feet, glancing over his shoulder or turning in a circle. _Good,_ Katara thought. _I want you to be afraid._

Zuko coiled himself, ready to pounce. They watched as the man spun around suddenly and blasted fire behind him. As the man retrieved his fallen groceries, Zuko moved behind Katara, positioning himself to leap. Half a second before the man’s foot touched the trip wire, Zuko leaned down and whispered into Katara’s ear, “Whatever you decide, I’m with you.” The man collapsed face-down in the mud and Zuko sprung.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara walked back to Appa in a daze. She let Zuko help her into the saddle, not really registering sight nor sound nor touch. She had a vague awareness of wind in her hair. A few hours later, she felt something wet.

“Uh, Katara?” Zuko called back to her. She lifted her head in his direction. “A little help?”

Katara squinted around her, trying to make sense of anything.

_Oh._

_Rain._

She tried to speak, but no sound came out of her mouth. Zuko looked back at her once more to see if she had heard him. It was all she could do to meet his eyes, helpless. He understood in an instant.

“I’m going to have to land, okay? We can’t fly in this and you need to rest.”

It wasn’t until dinner that her numbness started to wear off. Katara was somewhere between staring into the fire and worrying the pendant of her necklace when she felt a gentle nudge at her side.

Zuko offered her a fish and some berries on a large leaf. She accepted and picked a large chunk of fish off the bone. It was warm and salty and delicious. Something real. Something to focus on. She hummed in appreciation.

“I hope I made it the way you like it,” Zuko said.

“It’s very good.” She met his eyes to prove that she was being truthful. “I didn’t know you could do more than cut vegetables.”

“Not much more than that, I’m afraid. But I hope I’ve picked a few things up by watching you.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Ah, well,” he said quickly. “Not like that. I mean, I—”

Katara chuckled to herself. “Figures.”

“What?”

“You chased us all over the world. Why wouldn’t I expect you to keep track of me now?”

“Katara, no.” The pleading look in his eyes was back. “That’s not what I meant. I never meant to—”

“Zuko, I’m sorry. It was a joke.” She smiled darkly. “I guess I’m not in the best humor right now. Although I was never really that good at jokes,” she said with a sidelong glance.

Zuko visibly relaxed. “Neither was I.”

“I recall. But I suppose everyone deserves a second chance. Know any other ones?” She hoped he understood her implications. She was much too tired to explain.

He understood her.

“I do.” He swallowed thickly. “What did the turtleduck say when she bought lipstick?”

“What?”

“Put it on my bill.”

Katara groaned and put her hand to her head in false exasperation. “I have had the most emotionally exhausting day of my entire life and _that_ is the best you can do?”

“Sorry. You didn’t give me much time to _pond_ -er.”

“Did you just…?”

“ _Water_ you talking about?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh Spirits.”

“Sorry. I’m done. I swear on my honor.”

Katara tried. She really tried. But she had spent every iota of energy, mental and physical, on facing her mother’s killer. Any other day she could have held it together. But on this particular day, she burst out in laughter. Full-bellied laughter. She clutched at her sides and watched through teary eyes as Zuko’s small smile broadened. She laughed until she was out of breath and her cheeks hurt from the strain.

Zuko, for his part, maintained his composure much better than Katara did. As her laughter died down, he said, “Alright. I think that’s enough emotional whiplash for one day. Shall we get you to bed?”

“I could just flop right here. I don’t want to set up the bedrolls.”

“No need. It’s already done,” he said, pointing behind him to a patch of grass with their bedrolls all laid out.

Katara was asleep before her head hit the mat.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Despite her ease in falling asleep, Katara’s night was not a restful one. Nightmares found her and left her in a cold sweat. She hadn’t had nightmares this bad in years, but the memories that the past day had stirred up brought them back in full force.

Sitting up on her bedroll, Katara took a moment to register her surroundings. Her eyes found Appa sleeping peacefully to her right. And to her left she found Zuko. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. His mouth formed soundless words. Katara wondered if whatever he was dreaming was pleasant or a nightmare.

Decisively, she shook him awake. “Zuko.”

“Hm?” he groaned, turning over to face her.

“I want my anything.”

Two eyes slid open. Even in the dark moonless night, Katara could see a smoldering fire that was barely masked beneath a layer of uncertainty.

“You want…?” he questioned.

“Yes.”  
  


A beat, a heartbeat long. No longer.  
  


“Come here.”

He opened his arms and drew her to him. She settled her head in the crook of his elbow and he laid his other arm across her waist. Looking up at him, she coaxed her mind into remembering how it had felt to hate him. In her heart, she felt a shell of anger and she realized that it had been empty for quite some time. She recognized the feeling but could not recreate it.

She ghosted her fingertips across his cheek. Just like the first time she had done this, (what was months ago but felt like a lifetime ago) he didn’t flinch. She traced the outline of his lips and let her finger run down his jaw. She wound her hand behind his neck and tugged him close enough to feel his breath tickling her lips. At the taste of him, all smoke and spice, she parted her lips. A heartbeat later, he softly pressed his lips to hers.

She froze for a moment, lost to the sensation of his lips gliding over hers, a gentle greeting. He was warm. So warm. She felt her heart swell and with a surge of courage, she tangled her hand into his hair and deepened the kiss. He responded in earnest, tracing her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Pressing herself flush against him, she reciprocated. To her surprise, he yielded to her probing tongue and let her slip inside. She gasped softly, pulling back a fraction.

“Shhh. It’s alright,” he reassured, tipping her chin gently up to meet him again. Her lips were pliant beneath his and he kissed away her worries. He let his hand drag from her waist along her side until he found her hair. He smoothed her hair in long strokes as she melted into him.

They laid pressed against each other all night. Sleep came to Katara in short spurts. At first light, Zuko began to stir. Tightening her arms around him, Katara whispered, “Not yet.” She wasn’t sure if he had heard her, but before she could form new words, Zuko leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Whatever you want,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m with you.”

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there are a couple of characterizations that I absolutely WILL NOT budge on. 
> 
> 1\. Zuko is a dork™️  
> 2\. Katara was completely justified in her anger toward Aang and Sokka in the beginning of The Southern Raiders. She has a boat-load of trauma that she has never dealt with and the moment she finds a way to deal with her grief in her own way, on her own time, Aang and Sokka tell her that she can't do that and that doing so makes her a bad person. So, while I think that Aang's heart was in the right place during their interaction, his disregard for Katara's feelings in inexcusable. He tries to impart his philosophy on her instead of offering her what she really needed at that moment -- support from a friend. That's the role that Zuko filled and that is a large reason why Katara was able to forgive him.
> 
> Let me know how you're liking it so far! Your comments keep me going! ❤️


	4. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood. Gonna tag this as graphic description of violence and up the rating just to be safe.

* * *

* * *

_It’s only blood  
_ _I have plenty left.  
_ _It’s only blood.  
_ _I just need to rest._

_-all is well, radical face_

* * *

* * *

“Do you trust me?”

They had been flying in silence for a few hours and his suddenness surprised Katara. She glanced over at him. Zuko kept his eyes focused on the horizon.

The red sky cast dark shadows across his face and Katara noted how he looked sharper, harsher. Calloused. The blood-red light stained everything it touched. She hated it. She hated how it saturated every other color. All-consuming. She hated how it stole the warmth from Zuko’s eyes and curtained them in reticence.

She wanted to reach over to him and chase away the darkness that had settled over him. To cup his face in her hands and whisper little words until he came back to her. She wanted to paint the sky blue and call the rain to wash away the bitterness.

How much she wanted these things. How natural they felt to her. How quickly she had gotten in so deep. It scared her a little bit. She wanted to tell him these things. But she didn’t.

Instead, she said, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Though she had meant it to lighten the mood, it had the opposite effect. Katara watched as Zuko clenched his jaw before she continued, “Zuko, don’t worry. We’ll be fine. I’ve got your back.”

Katara could hear his teeth grinding.

“I know you do,” he said. Then, more quietly, “You always have.”

“Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

“I…” he tried. “You…” He struggled to find the right words. He took a deep breath and shifted to face her, “I don’t want to die today.”

“Zuko,” she warned.

“Let me finish. I don’t want to die, and I’ll try not to.” He gave her a wry smile. His face was still hard, but something akin to hope danced in his golden eyes. “I know that we shape our own destinies. Whatever happens today will happen because of us and the choices we make. Not some cosmic force. And,” he said, taking her hand in his own. “I know that even though I’ve made some bad choices, somehow, I found my way to you.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “And you gave me another chance. When I didn’t deserve it.”

“Zuko, you did more than—” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each finger.

“You have a terrible habit of interrupting, you know?”

Katara huffed.

Zuko let out a breath, more of a sigh than a laugh. “Maybe it was luck that brought me to you. Maybe it was fate. But if there is some karmic force dealing out good and bad, then I got more than my fair share of good when our paths crossed.”

Katara could feel the small prickle of tears and quickly blinked them away.

“I don’t deserve you. I don’t know if I ever could. But for some reason, you’re still here. I’m thankful for that.”

“I’m with you, Zuko,” she said fighting the lump in her throat.

As they neared the Fire Nation capitol, the dry air was unsettling. Foreboding. Ash stung at Katara’s eyes. The smell of smoke hung heavily around them. It coated her throat as she tried to breathe.

Descending toward the plaza, Zuko spoke. “Do you trust me, Katara? To protect you?”

She didn’t pause, didn’t think. She didn’t have to. “I trust you.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“It’s only blood, Katara. It’s only blood. I have plenty left.” Zuko patted his chest gently, trying to reassure her. _Mistake_ , he thought as his nerves blistered in pain. He brought his hand to his face to inspect and wondered at it. _Sticky._ _Little black pieces. What are these little black pieces?_

Zuko lay on the hard ground, still amidst the chaos around him. His tunic was singed open, exposing a bloody, weeping mess of charred flesh and marred skin. He could hear Azula sobbing and struggling against her chains still. He could feel the ground rumbling under the weight of dozens of guards running around the edges of the plaza. And he could feel Katara leaning over him, hands on his chest. _She’s safe._

“How could you do that, Zuko?” Her voice was pained, and her eyes were frantic. He felt like she was looking for something that he didn’t know how to give her. Her hands continued to move up and down his chest. “Why would you do this?” she asked with her eyes trained on his wound. Her features were etched with fear. Zuko realized with sudden panic that there were tears in her eyes. He tried to sit up, wanting to find the source of her pain. _Is she injured?_ He scanned up and down as much of her as he could see and found nothing out of place. “Zuko, you need to lie down,” Katara said. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s only blood, Katara. I just need to rest,” he said relenting as she guided him back down. His vision went dim at the edges. Her hand cradled the back of his head. _That feels nice. I just need to rest._ His eyes drifted closed until he saw nothing.

“Zuko, please—” her voice echoed and faded until he heard nothing.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

When Zuko awoke, each of his senses seemed to re-boot at a different pace. Before he had even opened his eyes, the scent of cedarwood oil and fresh lavender tickled his nose. He heard soft breathing that was not his own coming from somewhere to his right. Smiling to himself, he opened his eyes to find a sleeping Katara curled up on a sofa near his bed. With overwhelming fondness and a need to be nearer to her, Zuko began to push himself up when two things stopped him.

First, the pain. At the first contraction of his muscles, his body screamed in protest.

Second, the resistance around his wrists.

_Wait what?_

He glanced behind his head and discovered his wrists were bound to his bed posts. They were loose when he laid flat, but the moment he tried to sit up, he was restrained.

_What the hell?_

Zuko fought his bindings for a moment. Evidently, he struggled a little too much because Katara was on him an instant later.

“Zuko, NO!” she yelled, grabbing each of his wrists to steady them.

“Katara, what the hell? Why am I tied up?”

“Zuko?” she asked, incredulously.

“Yes? Hi?”

“You’re awake,” she said as she collapsed on top of him, careful to avoid putting any weight on his chest. “You’re finally awake,” she breathed next to his ear.

“Katara, not that I don’t love being tied up with you on top of me, but can you please tell me what’s going on?”

The glare she gave him was icier than the blizzard he had barely survived. “If you weren’t hurt…” she threatened emptily as she leaned up to undo his restraints.

Chuckling, Zuko prompted her again, “So…?”

Katara kneaded each of his wrists as she unbound him. “You were pretty out of it for a while there. You kept trying to get up, even though you were delirious. I had to keep you down so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

“I see. What was I trying to do?”

“I’m not really sure. I don’t think you were either. You would wake up every twelve hours or so and bolt for the door. You talked a lot but none of it made any sense.”

“What did I say?”

“Something about change? ‘Show her. Tell her.’ Does any of that make any sense to you?”

Grabbing the fabric of her tunic gently, Zuko pulled Katara down again. He captured her lips with his own and kissed her tenderly. “No,” he spoke against her lips. “It was nonsense.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Several days later, Zuko had finally convinced Katara to let him get out of bed. She watched him like a hawk every moment that he was out of bed (and for most of the moments that he was in bed too.)

She helped him regain his balance and taught him how to stretch his muscles gently. Every morning, she put salve on his wound. Every evening, she stood over him, her hands glowing and working out any maladaptive reconstruction or twisted energy that she could find. Every night, she traced the outline of his wound with a strange look on her face. When Zuko tried to draw her out of her thoughts, she came back to him quickly, curling herself around him and pressing light kisses into his shoulder. She would lull him to sleep with stories of her childhood, her travels, or an old Water Tribe myth.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

A little more than a week later, Zuko was strong and steady enough to begin preparing for his coronation ceremony. It was a flurry of activity between meetings with his advisors, tailor, head of staff, and a hundred other people who now demanded his attention.

The day before his ceremony, Zuko was at his wit’s end. He was not above feigning a headache to get out of the rest of his afternoon meetings, which is precisely what he did.

Feeling victorious, he strode down the halls in search of Katara. He was eager to have an afternoon off to spend with her. Maybe she could tell him more stories of her childhood. Or maybe they would spend the afternoon reading in the library. What they did didn’t matter as long as they were together. He felt lighter and yet more anchored in her presence.

Zuko found her in the courtyard, lying on her back watching the sky as she idly streamed water from hand to hand. He felt his stress dissipating and breathed deeply to expel the last of it from his body before crossing the courtyard to her.

“Highness,” she said by way of a greeting as he approached.

“Katara,” he scolded lightly. “You know I hate that.”

She stood and brushed herself off. “But Zuko,” she teased. “If I don’t antagonize you, who will?”

“Oh, trust me, there’s a whole line of people who want nothing but the worst for me.”

“Point me to them and I’ll have a word with them,” she deadpanned.

“And by ‘word’ you mean…?”

“I’m pretty sure you know exactly what I mean.”

“I’m so lucky to have you to defend my honor,” he quipped.

Katara tossed her head back and laughed, truly and freely. _So beautiful,_ Zuko thought.

“I have some free time this afternoon. Would you like to accompany me?” He offered her his arm.

“That depends,” she said, stepping forward to take his arm. “Are your intentions less than honorable?”

“Only a little bit.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

They made their way down the halls, nodding politely to servants and guards who bowed their heads as they passed. They kept their cover until they ducked into a spare bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut, they crashed together.

Katara let her hands roam freely, snaking under the hem of his shirt to feel the smooth skin of his abdomen. She drew little circles in the vee of his hips and felt him jolt against her. Giggling, she moved her hands to his back and let her nails drag long lines down his spine.

Zuko nipped at her lip. Katara sighed into his mouth, relishing the tiny sting of his teeth. He took her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked lightly. Katara would soon realize that kissing Zuko was divided into _before_ and _after._ What had before felt impossible, all of the sudden was irreplaceable. What she hadn’t known that existed moments before was instantly something she would gladly spend her entire life chasing. He had ruined her.

His mouth left hers to trail kisses across her cheeks, down her jaw, against her neck.

“Zuko?”

“Mmmph?” he said not bothering to lift his mouth from where it was pressing hot kisses on her neck.

“Wait.”

He drew back from her in an instant. He took his hands from where they had been on her hips and folded them in front of him, the picture of propriety. At his sudden withdrawal, she shivered. He searched her eyes, afraid he’d find them full of regret. Instead he found her gazing up at him, brows drawn, chewing her lip.

He stopped there, waiting for her to speak.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s…” he laughed in surprise. In relief. “…not a problem.” She gave him a hard look and the mirth evaporated from his tone. “I just mean that I’m happy just being with you. We can sit here and do a puzzle if that’s what you want.”

Katara thought a long moment. When she smiled and shook her head, he reached for her tentatively. His hands skimmed lightly over her collarbones and came to rest on her shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, Katara.”

_You._

“More?” she asked as she plucked his hand from her shoulder and placed an open-mouthed kiss against his palm. She watched his reaction through her eyelashes and felt a swell of pride when she saw his throat bob.

He leaned down slowly, allowing her to escape if she wanted to, and grazed her lips with his own. Once. Twice. Three times. He walked them backward toward the bed, guiding her with a hand on her hip.

Zuko’s knees hit the bed and he wrapped both arms around Katara before he fell back onto the bed. She giggled and squirmed out of his grasp. She scrambled away and Zuko moved to follow. Suddenly he felt her leg hook around his and pull it out from under him. He laid on his back staring up at her. Katara smiled triumphantly before sinking down to kiss him.

“You drive me crazy,” he said smiling against her lips. “I can’t ever pin you down.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The coronation ceremony and reception lasted all morning and well into the afternoon. Zuko was dead on his feet by the time he was able to break away. Spotting his friends at one of the dozens of identical tables in the banquet hall, he quickly made his way over to them.

“Congratulations, your fieriness!” Aang beamed at him.

“Thanks, your uh… quatuor elementis…ness?” Zuko tried. Sokka and Toph chuckled.

“Flameo! I love it! ‘Quatuor elementisness.’ Sounds epic.” Aang said.

“Glad to be of service.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m going to bow to you now,” Sokka said flicking a fire flake from across the table.

“Sokka, you didn’t bow to me before.”

“Neither did you!”

“Why would I…” Zuko started. “Oh. Dad. Chief. Right. Got it.”

“I’ve tolerated your insolence up until now, Fire Lord. But now, I will have no more of it!” Sokka said dramatically. He pushed back from the table and circled to stand before Zuko. “Ahem!” he said, expectantly.

Chuckling, Zuko placed one arm behind his back and the other across his waist. He bent deeply at the hips and held there for a moment. Raising his head, he found Sokka mirroring his position. But Sokka’s was not out of respect, but rather that he was doubled over in laughter.

Zuko straightened himself. Glancing around at his favorite people in the world, he felt light with joy. But someone was missing.

“Has anyone seen Katara?”

“She said she wanted to see the sunset,” Sokka said, wiping tears from his eyes.

_Hm. Why today of all days?_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko found her at the caldera’s edge. She had her back to him. She sat at the southernmost tip and let her legs dangle over the clifftop.

“Quite the hike,” he said as he approached her.

She didn’t turn around. Before her lay a long stretch of land that sloped gently into the expanse of the sea. And beyond that, the sun sunk slowly beyond the edge of the world.

“May I?” he asked, uncertain.

She lifted a hand and gestured forward, inviting him.

He settled beside her, matching her position. He began to tug at the pin that held the crown – his crown – in place.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to take that thing off,” she spoke suddenly, still staring straight ahead. Her tone was neutral.

He smirked. “Who’s going to make me?” he said, trying to goad her.

“I could make you,” she said flatly.

_Okay, not in the mood._

“I know you could.”

“Zuko, you need to respect your own traditions. People look to you now more than ever. They need you to set an example. To show them that living in harmony with the other nations doesn’t mean giving up Fire Nation culture. They need you.”

“I know,” he said pulling the pin out anyway. He shook out his hair and felt the tension melt away. He tucked the crown inside his tunic.

“You’re impossible.”

“Almost,” he said. But he could not bring himself to be sorry. “I’m trying to balance being who I need to be and who I want to be.”

“Are they so different?” she asked, a rawness in her voice that Zuko didn’t recognize.

“No,” he said slowly, watching for her reaction. “They’re not mutually exclusive. I want to be Fire Lord. I want to help restore balance. I need to do those things. But there are other things that I want too.”

“Like?”

He thought for a moment.

_Like you._

“You don’t have to be what the world expects of you Katara. The only thing that matters is what you want. The world expected me to be angry and vengeful. But I was tired of living that way. I started to do what I thought was right. Just me. No one else.”

“And look where that got you.”

“Yeah, well, I had to get water whipped and frozen a few times first.” She tossed him a passionless glare.

“But it was worth it,” he said honestly. “Who do you want to be, Katara?”

“I want to be my own person. I want to do things for me.”

“Okay.” Zuko took a deep breath in. He could see what they were careening toward, but he felt helpless to stop it. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “How will you do that?”

“I’m not sure. I know I want to help people who need me. I like feeling needed.”

_I need you._

Katara stared at the sinking sun. Its last rays kissed the sea as they disappeared. The sky turned purple. “I guess I’ll go find the people who need me.”

Protest rose from deep within Zuko, a flame that threatened to consume him. He felt its scorching burn as he fought to stuff it down.

For fear that he might collapse in agony, he embraced her and buried his face in her hair to hide his tears. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you,” he whispered against her hair.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara stopped at the docks on her way back to the palace, ushering Zuko ahead of her. She told him that she just wanted to smell the salty air to clear her head. Instead, she found a merchant ship loading its cargo, bound for the Earth Kingdom. A handshake and a bag of coins later, her future was set.

She walked slowly back to the palace, intrigued by the nighttime bustle of the city. She watched firebending lamplighters move along the streets, methodically illuminating the cobblestoned streets. She passed through a small market. Under the warm glow of the lanterns above, a small object caught her eye.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara returned to the palace late that night. She checked Zuko’s bedroom first, expecting that he would have gone to bed by this late hour. But the guard posted outside shook his head and pointed her down the hall.

She found him in his office. He was reclining in his chair, scanning a scroll. Though by the way he tossed it aside when she entered, she was inclined to believe that he hadn’t been very interested in whatever that document contained.

“There you are,” he said, circling his desk to meet her. “I was worried.” The fondness in his eyes was almost too much for Katara to bear.

She pressed a small object into his hand. “This is for you.”

Zuko looked down and frowned at the object, trying to figure out what it was meant for or what it did. It was a circle made of metal with a depression in the middle. Sticking up from one side of the circle was a metal piece in the shape of waves. “It’s beautiful. But what is it?”

“It’s a shadow lamp.”

“That sounds like an oxymoron.”

“Exactly. It plays with opposites. Dark and light. You put oil here,” she said, pointing to the depression. “Then you light it.”

“And then you have light? Where’s the shadow?”

Pulling a small vial of oil from her sleeve, Katara took the lamp from his hands and set it on his desk, near the wall, the wave sculpture facing the wall. She poured the oil and beckoned him over.

“Light it.”

Zuko produced a small flame in his palm and held it to the lamp. When it caught, he stepped back. It took him a moment to make out the shape that danced on the wall, but when he did, the only sound that came from him was a quiet “oh.” Zuko was mesmerized by the shadows on the wall. They were shaped like crashing waves but the flickering light from the oil made the waves move back and forth, up and down. Unpredictable as the sea itself. They breathed with the fire of the candle. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

Katara could feel herself beginning to unravel. She grabbed Zuko by his sleeve and yanked him to her, searching until her lips found his. Her kiss was searing, demanding. Zuko complied and rolled her bottom lip between his teeth. Katara let out a sound that she didn’t know she was capable of making, desperate and needy. Encouraged, Zuko licked up into her mouth. At the taste of him, Katara let out another sound, this one made of anguish and apologies. When he pulled away for air, she chased him until he kissed her again.

Smiling down at her, Zuko said, “I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.”

Katara felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. Her face must have given her away because recognition colored his features and he asked, “How long until you leave?”

Katara glanced over at the spark-candle on his desk, measuring it. Her eyes were dark. “Seven.”

“Seven…” Zuko looked to the candle, then back to Katara, confused. “Days?” Katara shook her head. “Seven…hours,” he said solemnly.

“My ship leaves at sunrise.”

A beat.

Two.

Three.

Four.

“Katara, please.” Zuko didn’t know where the words came from. He didn’t permit them to leave his mouth, but they did anyway. “Please.”

She put her hand to his lips. She couldn’t bear to hear the crack in his voice. She knew her resolve will break entirely if she let him say one more word.

“Don’t,” she pleaded, tears spilling.

Katara wasn’t meant for tears. She was meant for her brilliant smile, for her mastery of an element that never stayed in one place, for the quirk of her eyebrow when she sassed someone, for the dichotomy of her voice that could either command an army or soothe him to sleep. He loathed making her cry.

Zuko’s words stuck in his throat. He choked them down. They bristled at his heart until he banished them to the deepest, darkest cavern.

Extinguishing the shadow lamp, he took her hand and led Katara to her room, insisting that she get some sleep before kissing her sweetly goodnight.

She was gone long before sunrise.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**1 month post-war**

_Zuko,_

_How are you healing? Are you doing the stretches I taught you to do? Are you using the special soap that I left on the counter? I know you don’t take care of yourself. But you need to. You’re responsible for so many people now._

_I’m somewhere in the Western Earth Kingdom. Don’t ask me where. I don’t even know how I found this place. The maps here are not the best. They’re either woefully outdated or full of blank spots. I don’t want to think about what those blank spots used to be._

_I’ve just begun to meet the local officials. I have this idea to create a regional center to bring resources to these remote communities. It’d have a market and a school and a hospital. And it wouldn’t be more than a day’s journey from any village. That is, if I can get these old men to agree on a central location. They bicker so much amongst themselves that sometimes I wonder if they actually want progress. Either way, we are still in the early stages. But I’d like to begin construction within the year._

_I hope you’re well, Zuko. I miss you._

_-Katara_

_Katara,_

_I am doing my stretches. The doctors tell me that I’m healing well. Much better than my other scar._

_I’ll have my cartographers draw up a new map with all of our latest intel. Look for it in a few days._

_I’m glad to hear of your plans. They sound brilliant. You’ll find a way to work with the officials. You have a way of getting through to people._

_I hope you are well. I think of you often._

_-Zuko_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**3 months post-war**

_Zuko,_

_Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t mention using the soap. Use it. It’s good for you. I made it myself. And it has lavender in it._

_Thank you for the new map. It is very helpful to show the officials. Although, they did mention that they find the Fire Nation script a little hard to read._

_We have a solid plan in place for the new regional center. I’m now traveling among the villages that would be in its catchment area and presenting the plan. Most people seem excited by it. But there are some who look at me with contempt from the moment I ride into town. There are others who seem like they are afraid of me. I can’t imagine why anyone would be afraid of me. I’m not scary. Right?_

_Tell me what’s going on with you. Have you chosen your new council? Are you settling back into palace life, highness? Spirits, what I wouldn’t give for a hot bath every night. I’d even settle for a hot cup of tea right now. People around here are still a little…nervous around fire. They use it for cooking and washing when they have to, but outside of that you’ll never see candles or torches. They use these little bugs that glow at night for light. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never seen anything like it. They give everything this green glow. I thought it was eerie at first, but I suppose you can get used to anything._

_Still missing you._

_-Katara_

_Katara,_

_I used the soap. You’re right; it’s very soothing. I love the lavender._

_Tell the officials that they should learn to appreciate Fire Nation script. It takes a great deal of skill and artistry. (Tell them that, then show them the new map that I’m sending. I’ll label it myself. I know the Earth Kingdom style. Uncle made me write the menus for his teashop, so I’ve had plenty of practice.)_

_You are without a doubt the scariest person I have ever met. And I say that having fought both my father and my sister. You eclipse them a hundred times. Not in brutality or ferocity, but in strength of will. I have thought this since the moment I met you – you’re formidable._

_I have chosen my new council. Our progress is slow. As you said, a bunch of old men arguing with each other is hardly a fast-track to progress. I try to remain hopeful, but sometimes I wonder if the Fire Nation has been too badly poisoned to be saved._

_Those bugs sound creepy to me. I can understand why the villagers would be wary of fire though._

_I’ll send a hot cup of tea with this letter. But, if it’s cold by the time it gets to you, it’s not my fault. It was hot when it left my hand. Maybe you should find a Firebender to travel with you. Then you wouldn’t have this problem._

_-Zuko_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**6 months post-war**

_Zuko,_

_You would be the one to think that not having solved an entire nation’s problems in a matter of months is a failure. Give it time. Slow and steady wins the race._

_Your map is beautiful. I never knew that you knew Earth Kingdom style. I’ll add that to my list of surprising things about you. You still need to cook me another meal, you know. I haven’t forgotten._

_I actually did meet a Firebender out here. He’s a former soldier who left the army after the war. He tells me that he is traveling all around the Earth Kingdom trying to learn the culture. But he tells me that he keeps his nationality a secret for fear of retaliation. I practically had to beg him to heat my tea._

_-Katara_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**1 year post-war**

_Katara,_

_I’m out of soap._

_-Zuko_

_Zuko,_

_More on the way. Did you not get my last letter?_

_-Katara_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**2 years post-war**

_Zuko,_

_I saw a pack of wolf-panthers yesterday. There were four on a hilltop. Another wolf-panther came up to them with a rabbit-mouse in its jaws. It put its kill before the pack and nudged it toward them. The four ate it and then growled at the new one until it left. I watched the lone wolf-panther trudge back down the hill until it slipped on a loose stone. It had broken its leg. This morning, the injured wolf-panther was still there. The other four had left._

_It made my heart ache. I wish you could have seen it._

_-Katara_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**3 years post-war**

_Zuko,_

_Did your ink wells run dry? You never write anymore._

_-Katara_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**5 years post-war**

_Fire Lord Zuko,_

_I write to you with a formal request for Fire Nation funding of Earth Kingdom war reparations._

_The proposal is attached._

_-Katara_

_Master Katara,_

_Your request has been approved. A messenger has been dispatched to deliver the funds._

_-Zuko_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

**6 years post-war**

_Zuko,_

_Thank you to you and your council for the funds. The project was a success. This project was my tenth that I’ve completed since the end of the war._

_The Earth Kingdom humidity is getting stifling. I think I may move on soon._

_I think I know why you haven’t been returning my letters. I don’t want to guess; I’d much rather hear it from you._

_-Katara_

_Master Katara,_

_Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who they are._

_-Zuko_

_Fire Lord Zuko,_

_Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is._

_-Katara_

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until we have seen someone's darkness, we don't really know who they are.  
> Until we have forgiven someone's darkness, we don't really know what love it.  
> -Marianne Williamson
> 
> This. Was. So. Hard. To. Write. Certain parts just flowed from my fingers. Like the letters. Those were so easy because I knew what I wanted to do. But the scene where Katara realizes that she wants to leave? HOO DOGGY did I STRUGGLE. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted Zuko to (a) tell Katara outright how he felt (b) try to convince her to stay without actually admitting how he felt or (c) be respectful of her autonomy. You can see which one won out, but I tested each of them and there were things I liked about each.
> 
> Also note here: Zuko is good, but Zuko is not perfect. He is respectful of what Katara wants and never tries to force her into anything. (This is meant to be a parallel to how he acted during the Southern Raiders.) But the difference now is that Katara’s decision affects Zuko too. He should have some say in it. Or, they should at least talk about it. Yet, he tries to let her come to her own decisions. It's noble of him, but you can see how it eats away at him.
> 
> THE SHADOW CANDLE. I love these things. They are so pretty when they are lit. And when they’re not they look like little pieces of art. But anyway, in the context of the story, is a shadow candle ridiculously on the nose? Yes. Dark and light? Give me that poetic duality! Fire and water? Smash them together into one beautiful object that only works when they’re both there. Yes yes and more yes. Am I sorry at all about it? Nope.
> 
> What a shadow candle [looks like.](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/810AEQBytXL._AC_SL1200_.jpg)  
> Just imagine waves instead.


	5. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely someone mentioned to me in the comments that they found it helpful that I explained some of my choices/symbolism. I’ll keep doing that in the end notes. But I wanted to mention one thing here that I think everyone should know: lavender is the flower of silence and devotion.
> 
> Also, please note the rating change. This story will contain explicit content.
> 
> Alright. Enough. On to the story.

* * *

* * *

**6 years post-war**

“Anything for me?” Katara asked as she passed through the hawk house as she did every day.

“Not today, Master Katara.”

Most of the other officials responsible for reconstruction had their assistants bring their messages to them. Katara had hired her own assistant years ago, Torikae. He was a young man, perhaps only a few years older than Katara, though she had never asked him. She had met him early in her travels and found that they were aligned in their goals of rebuilding the Earth Kingdom. He was soft-spoken and kind and made her feel at ease. But, Katara had never let Torikae bring her her messages.

Torikae had been accompanying her and helping her with her projects since Katara’s second summer in the Earth Kingdom. She had been in Ba Sing Se, meeting with the Earth King about large-scale road construction. ‘The Transportation Summit,’ the Earth King had dubbed it. Katara had rolled her eyes, but the Earth King insisted on inviting officials from every corner of the continent. By this point in her reconstruction career, she had spent enough evenings rubbing elbows with the wealthy and powerful to want to rip her hair out whenever someone mentioned the words “banquet” or “summit” or “cocktail party.”

Katara had been hanging in the back of the large hall. She felt that she had done enough schmoozing for the night and was toying with the idea of heading to bed when she heard a small gasp followed by, “Master Katara.”

She looked up to find a man bowing deeply before her. When he lifted his head, she noticed a jovial sparkle in amber eyes. He wore robes so deeply green that they were nearly black. He had long, dark hair that was half-up, half-down. Atop his head sat a neat little top knot, tied with a gold ribbon.

“I apologize, have we met before?”

“No, Master Katara. But I recognize you. You’re quite famous. My name is Torikae,” the man said, offering a handshake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Torikae,” she said, taking his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Master Katara.”

“What business do you have at,” Katara sighed, “the Transportation Summit?”

“I am merely a simple laborer. I help on whatever construction projects I can get in on. It seems that if there are new plans for infrastructure that this would be a good place for me to find work.”

“You sound like a salt-of-the-earth type of man.”

“I’m not sure I would say that, Master Katara.”

“Katara.”

“Sorry?”

“You can just call me Katara.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking about reconstruction. Katara was pleasantly surprised to discover that Torikae had been a part of many of her projects. He had helped build the regional center last year. He also shared her sentiment of focusing on the hardest-hit areas first. So many people wanted to direct most of their reconstruction efforts toward the wealthier cities, but Katara fought against them with every project that she completed.

Katara had spent the last year alone. She was so proud of her work, but she missed sharing her accomplishments with someone. She missed having someone to talk to. She missed being held, being touched. She missed her friends. A sky-bison ride with Aang. A knowing look exchanged with Suki. A bad joke from Sokka. A punch in the arm from Toph. A night spent whispering Water Tribe legends into Zuko’s hair as he slept in her arms.

_Zuko._

“What did you say?” Torikae was looking at her, puzzled.

Katara mentally scolded herself. “Nothing, nothing.”

She reached for her tea and was disappointed to find it cold. Seeing this, Torikae reached and took it from her hands. He held it for a few seconds and then handed it back to her, piping hot.

“Are you…?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Why didn’t you—”

“It’s not something I advertise. Especially here. But,” he said, looking at her with a kindness that she knew she didn’t deserve. “You looked like you could use a hot cup of tea.”

Katara hummed into her tea and avoided his eyes.

By the end of the night, Katara has propositioned that Torikae join her as her assistant. His input would be helpful on all her future projects, she had told him. She told him that he’d be paid for his help. He was quick to accept.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara swatted at mosquitos as she made her way to the hawk house. The Western Earth Kingdom heat was something else. It was sweltering. Not even the Fire Nation in summer was this oppressive. The humidity weighed everything down and made Katara feel like she could never get enough air. She’d often bend the water out of the air around her, though she knew the relief was only too temporary. The stickiness returned within a minute.

“Anything for me?” Katara asked, stepping inside the hawk house.

“Yes, Master Katara. These,” the aviary master said, handing her two letters and a scroll.

“Thank you.” She gripped them tightly, not willing to look at the seals until she was back within the confines of her tent. There she would be free to deflate and collapse without any witnesses when she looked over her mail and found no black seal bearing a proud ‘Z’ surrounded by flames.

Though she had expected it, she still felt a pang of disappointment when she found the seals of Aang and Sokka and a third one that she recognized as belonging to the Earth King. She unfolded Aang’s letter first.

_Katara,_

_How are things going in the West? I’m in the Southern Earth Kingdom right now, but I’m headed that way! Toph and I spent a few months in the South learning this new Earthbending technique. It’s really cool! The guy who invented it said he got the idea from reading old Airbending scrolls. (How he got his hands on those, I have no idea. I’m going to assume he came by them honestly.) Anyway, the technique involves bending just certain parts of the Earth and then spinning those parts around really fast until they come together. It makes these really dense little rocks that don’t shatter when they collide with something. It’s pretty intense. I’ll show it to you when I can._

_I’d love to see you! Let me know if you want to meet up._

_Appa says he misses you. Momo too._

_Love,_

_Aang_

Katara hummed happily as she read Aang’s letter. It was light and sweet, just like him. She missed him terribly. The last time she’d seen him had been almost a year ago at the dedication of her last project. Having him there was an honor, although Katara knew that a large portion of the crowd that day was there to catch a glimpse of the Avatar and not to appreciate the creation that she had poured her heart and soul into.

_It would be nice to see him_ , she thought. It’d be nice to see any of her friends really. She still struggled with feeling intensely lonely. There were nights when the pain in her chest was too much and she snuck into Torikae’s tent and fucked him until she was overwhelmed with an entirely different sensation. Torikae was attentive to her, always asking “does that hurt?” or “like this, Katara?” but Katara could never bring herself over the edge unless she imagined it were someone else’s hands on her hips. It wasn’t until she closed her eyes and imagined two piercingly beautiful golden eyes looking back at her that she was able to come.

Katara shook her head, trying to shake away the thought of him. She opened Sokka’s letter next.

_Katara,_

_Send help. Suki’s pregnant again. What if it’s another girl? I’m already so outnumbered. Suki says it’s too early to tell. I told her to go get her tea leaves read or find one of those fortune-tellers or whatever mystic mumbo-jumbo that she has to do to tell me. I need as much time as I can to prepare if it’s another girl. Seya and Yona say that they’re sure they’re going to have another sister. I’m so woefully outnumbered in my own house. Maybe we’ll get a polar-dog that’s a boy. That might help a little._

_I read that you just got done with your latest project. Looked like a big one. I’m so proud of you, sis._

_Come visit as soon as you can. Seya and Yona say that they miss Aunt Katara. Also, what was the age that you started bending? I think I saw Seya’s water tremble in her glass when she was having a temper tantrum. Either she’s a bender or just a real loud screamer. Scratch that. The second one is definitely true. Still might be a bender though…_

_Love you. Miss you._

_-Sokka_

Her heart felt lighter as she re-read his letter and laughed at his false-anguish at having yet another daughter.

Katara hesitated to open the scroll. She was grateful to the Earth King for his support, but if she had to attend another one of his “banquets” full of stuffy Earth Kingdom nobles who would fawn over her and ask her over and over to tell the story of how she defeated the Fire Princess, she might stick an ice dagger through her head.

Resigning herself to her chosen fate, she lifted the wax seal and unfurled the heavy scroll. In ornate lettering, she read:

_MASTER KATARA OF THE SOUTHERN WATER TRIBE, HERO OF THE HUNDRED YEAR WAR, BUILDER OF NATIONS,_

_HIS MAJESTY, KING KUEI, REQUESTS THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE AT AN INTERNATIONAL CELEBRATION OF EARTH KINGDOM RECONSTRUCTION._

_TO BE HELD AT THE ROYAL PALACE IN BA SING SE._

_YOUR RESPONSE IS GRACIOUSLY APPRECIATED._

“International?” Katara said to herself.

Below the large official text of the invitation, Katara spotted a hand-scrawled note:

_I do hope you’ll attend! We’ve received word of your successful completion of your tenth project and we figured that was a good a reason as any to finally have a get-together with everyone. I’ve sent invitations to all the world leaders and all the war-heroes. Even so, you’ll be the guest of honor!_

_-Kuei & Bosco_

Katara lifted the flap of her tent. “Torikae?” she called outside. She heard a small shuffle and he was there a few seconds later.

“Yes, Katara?”

“Can you bring me some paper, brushes, and ink?”

“Of course, Katara.”

He reappeared a few minutes later, supplies in hand. He laid them out on her desk, delicately, taking care to set up the ink well away from the edge of the desk.

“Oh. And one more thing?” she asked as she surveyed her materials and took the brush in her hand.

“Of course.”

“My seal and some blue wax.”

“Of course, Katara.”

Katara wrote a quick response back to Kuei. “I’d be delighted to attend, Your Majesty,” it said.

She pulled another piece of paper and wrote to Sokka:

_Sokka,_

_I’m so happy to hear that Suki is pregnant again! Even from thousands of miles away, I can feel it. Sorry, brother. A third daughter is on her way._

_You should be getting an invitation from the Earth King soon if you haven’t already. He’s throwing some party for…well, me. He says he’s inviting everyone. Meet me there._

_Give Seya and Yona my love._

_Love you. See you soon._

_-Katara_

Katara tapped her brush against the desk, trying to think of how to ask what she so desperately wanted to know. Kuei had said it clearly. _All the world leaders._ That could only mean one thing. But she had no idea if he’d actually show up to something like this. She hadn’t heard from or of Zuko in months, years if she didn’t count his brief lines that could hardly be called correspondence. But she knew who probably had. If anyone knew what he was up to, it was Aang. She wrote:

_Aang,_

_I’m glad to hear that your training went well. Of course, I’d love to see your new moves. I’d love to spar with you too. There aren’t many waterbenders around here. Well, none actually. Except me._

_I’d love to see you too. Did you get your invitation from the Earth King? Let’s meet at his party in Ba Sing Se._

_Have you heard from Zuko lately? Do you think he’ll be there?_

_Give Appa all the pets for me. And give Momo an apple. He’ll know what it means._

_Love,_

_Katara_

Katara placed her writing brush in its rest and blew on the letters to dry them. Once dry, she folded each and carefully poured a small amount of blue wax on the seam. She placed her seal on each – a flowing “K” surrounded by swirling lines – and delivered them to the hawk house to be sent immediately.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara had begun to pack her things in preparation for her journey to Ba Sing Se when the aviary master came to her tent.

“Master Katara? I have a message for you.”

Katara scrambled out of her tent and snatched the paper out of his hands. She was almost back inside her tent before she remembered herself. “Thank you, so much.” She gave him a small bow which he returned before turning on his heel and departing.

Turning the letter over in her hand, she found Aang’s seal. It had barely been a week since she sent her letter. _He must be somewhere nearby_ , she thought as she ran her finger beneath the wax and unfolded the letter.

_Katara,_

_Yay! I cannot wait to see you!_

_Appa said ‘thank you’ for the pets. And Momo ate the apple so quick I don’t think he even tasted it. But he looked pretty happy afterward, so I took that as a good sign._

_I haven’t heard from Zuko lately. I know he’s been sending General Iroh to a lot of these functions in his stead. But I’d expect him to come to something like this. It’s the first big international gathering in a while._

_See you soon!_

_-Aang_

Katara was quiet that night as Torikae served dinner. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry or both. The pain in her chest raged and quelled as she went back and forth in her mind. _Will he be there? Won’t he?_ She was somewhere between swimming in fantasy and wanting to throw herself in the fire.

“Katara?” Torikae said, regarding her from across the fire.

“Hm?” Katara said, not looking up.

“Are you alright?”

“What?” She shook her head and looked up to see his brow drawn in genuine concern. “Oh, yes. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m just…” What could she tell him? That she felt like she was about to explode at the thought of seeing _him_ again? That she had spent every minute of their time together wishing he were someone else? That if she squinted hard enough, she could convince herself that his amber eyes were close enough? That every time they had sex, he was too busy moaning her name to hear her whispering in a trembling voice, “ _Zuko. Zuko. Zuko.”_

His voice brought her out of her thoughts. “Do you want a distraction?”

“What?”

“I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, Katara. I don’t need to. But I can tell when you get in there so deep that it kills you. So,” he said with a shrug. “I thought you might like a distraction.”

Katara chewed her lip. She knew it was a bad idea. It was cruel. Unfair. She knew these things.

She stood and took his hand, pushing him into his tent and onto his bedroll.

She let him climb on top of her. She let him kiss her. She let him dip his head into the hollow of her shoulder as his thrusts became shallower and quicker. It made it easier for her to close her eyes and imagine something else. Someone else. She moved her hand between them, furious and desperate. She tossed her head back in a silent, wretched scream as she came.

_I’m coming for you._

_Zuko._

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A zero Zuko chapter??? Yeah, I hate it too.
> 
> Sorry for the horrible “I’m coming for you” pun. I’m sorry. 😂
> 
> Torikae is Japanese for “replacement.” That boy is just a stand-in. It’s pretty mean.
> 
> Yeah, Aang and Toph learned how to earthbend iron into bullets… oops. I’d argue that it’s not quite the same as metalbending (which only Toph knows how to do). It’s more of metal creation? Because they’re just finding all the iron particles and smashing them together. Or maybe it is metalbending. I DON’T KNOW. I just wanted Aang to hang out with Toph for a bit, okay?
> 
> Sokka’s letter is a complete joke. He adores his wife and daughters. Katara knows this and knows his tone even without hearing his voice.
> 
> In this universe, Aang never kissed Katara at the play or at the teashop. In this universe, Aang recognized that Katara didn’t reciprocate his feelings and learned to respect that. Now, they’re very good friends.
> 
> This chapter got long (and it’s going to keep being long) so I decided to break it up. That is why you don’t see the titular “six” in this chapter. Don’t worry. It’s coming. :)
> 
> Your comments are the lifeblood of this story. ❤️


	6. Six, continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves. Quick update this weekend. The story demanded to be written and who am I to refuse? Also, I wanted to give you something to read for the next few days. I'll be at work all week, so I won't be as quick as I have been for the past couple of chapters. But! I should have another update by the end of the week.
> 
> (Also, I couldn't leave you guys on the previous chapter's end for too long, could I? That'd be cruel.)

* * *

* * *

Zuko read over his summons – rather, invitation – to an Earth Kingdom reconstruction celebration and immediately tossed the scroll to the side.

“Something offensive?” Uncle asked from his place across the desk. Uncle had recently returned to the Fire Nation on Zuko’s request for his “invaluable guidance.” In truth, Zuko just wanted someone to talk to.

He talked to his advisors all day long. He talked to the scrolls that he poured over. He talked to (and over) his council members in meetings where tempers flared high and it was all Zuko could do to not cauterize their mouths closed. He talked and talked but when he was finally alone at night, he felt like there was something clawing its way out of him, yet he had no words to name it.

“Just another invitation to some party,” Zuko said, rubbing his temples.

“That hardly sounds like a burden,” Uncle said as he picked up the scroll. “Oh! In Ba Sing Se! And look, it says ‘international.’ You have to attend, Fire Lord Zuko.”

“Uncle, please. I hate these things. Can’t you go for me?”

“I’ll go with you. How’s that?”

Zuko groaned.

“Zuko, you haven’t left the Fire Nation in years. People need to see you out and about in the world. They need to know that you’re committed to peace.”

“How is that not obvious?” Zuko heard the anger in his tone but couldn’t stop it. “How is everything I’ve done not enough?!” Zuko raged and the sconces along the walls flared.

“Zuko,” Uncle said again, unfazed. “You know your job is never done. You have done an excellent job building alliances, allocating reparation funds, rebuilding our economy, finding work for the industries that were lost when the war ended. You have done well, my nephew,” Uncle said, placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “I am proud of the man you have become.”

Zuko sighed and put his hand over Uncle’s. “Thank you, Uncle.”

“But there is always more work to be done. This is just another one of those things.”

Zuko dropped his head to his desk, allowing his forehead to meet the wood with a _thud._

“Besides, it’ll be a good chance for you to see your friends!” Uncle continued. “That should make this whole thing more interesting!”

“Ehtacklee,” came Zuko’s muffled voice.

“What was that?”

Lifting his head, Zuko mumbled, “Exactly.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Inside the Earth King’s palace with the celebration in full swing, Zuko stood in the center of a swarm of people vying for his attention. “What do you make of the new tax on nobles, Fire Lord?” “How will you address the poor harvest this year?” “Still unmarried, Fire Lord? I have a lovely niece.”

Internally, Zuko was having visions of burning the entire hall to the ground. Externally, he stood tall and smiled politely as the vultures circled around him. He shifted subtly, uncomfortable in the sweltering heat.

He wore his royal armor – black plates trimmed with ornate swirls of gold. Attached to his shoulder plates was a long black cape that trailed behind him slightly when he walked. His hair, past his shoulders now, was combed into a neat top knot with his Fire Crown nestled securely inside it. He wore his dual swords at his hip. What looked like a display of bravado to others, Zuko knew was his best defense should he ever need it. He trusted his guards implicitly, but he wasn’t one to be caught off guard. That and he didn’t mind looking a little intimidating.

Seeking respite from the heat and the vultures, Zuko excused himself and made his way to the bar.

“Good evening, Fire Lord. What may I get you, sir?” the barkeep said, inclining his head.

“Anything cold.”

“Very good, sir,” he said producing a glass of ice and light orange liquid.

“What is this?”

“Earth Kingdom liquor, sir. Made from grains. Mixed with papaya juice.”

Zuko sipped it. The cool liquid was a welcome relief from the heat. But, Zuko found himself not much caring for the sweet papaya flavor. _Oh well. At least it’s cold._

Zuko turned toward the front of the hall when he heard the music stop. He watched King Kuei ascend a small platform and stand front and center to address the crowd.

“Honored guests. Welcome. It is with great joy that I welcome you to this marvelous celebration of progress. The people of the Earth Kingdom are diverse and strong. And we have been through much. But our persistence endures us.” He paused as the crowd applauded.

“But our success has not been achieved without assistance. Since the end of the war we have been fortunate to receive assistance in our reconstruction efforts from all around the world.” His eyes scanned the crowd.

“Chief Arnook. Chief Hakoda,” King Kuei said addressing the leaders of the Northern and Southern Water Tribes. “We thank you for your continued support in opening trade routes through your waters and supplying us with new imports.” The chiefs nodded in acknowledgement.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” he continued, looking at Zuko. “We thank you for your financial support in war reparations. As well as your welcoming immigration policy toward refugees. I look forward to our continued alliance.”

Zuko felt hundreds of pairs of eyes on him as Kuei finished his sentence. He raised his voice to carry through the large hall, “As do I, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head slightly.

Satisfied with his answer, the Earth King went on. “And of course, Avatar Aang,” he said gesturing to where (Zuko assumed) Aang stood near the front of the crowd. “The world is indebted to you. We thank you for your tireless work throughout the Earth Kingdom and around the world to continue to broker peace.” The crowd erupted in applause.

“Our reconstruction efforts and success are attributable to many people. But, perhaps none more so than one person in particular. She has spearheaded no less than ten projects ranging from hospital construction to infrastructure design around the Earth Kingdom since the end of the war. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our guest of honor, Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.”

Katara appeared from behind a curtain to thunderous applause. She walked toward King Kuei where Zuko could see her lips form the words “thank you,” before she raised a hand to settle the crowd.

“Friends,” her voice was as clear as Zuko remembered it but refined by confidence and control. “I am humbled by this demonstration of appreciation for my efforts. I am proud to have served you. We are well on our way to a more harmonious world. But,” Katara said as her eyes roamed the crowd. “We must remember that nothing is given. We make our own destinies with every choice, every day.” From his place near the back it was impossible to say for sure, but Zuko thought he saw something flash across her face when her gaze fell in his direction. But her words never faltered. “There is more work to be done. And I, for one, will be there to do it.”

The crowd erupted once more. Zuko joined them in applause and raised his glass in Katara’s direction. He watched as she stepped from the platform and was enveloped by the crowd.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“Quite remarkable what Master Katara has accomplished,” Uncle commented.

“She is remarkable,” Zuko agreed, taking a sip of his drink. He toyed with the condensation on his glass, spinning the droplets in tiny whorls with his fingertip.

“And which of her projects did you fund?”

“I…” Zuko gritted his teeth at the question. “I honestly don’t know, Uncle,” he lied.

Iroh regarded his nephew for a moment. He watched Zuko look at him questioningly. He could tell from the set of his jaw that Zuko was on edge. He knew that what he was about to say would set him off.

He said it anyway.

“We are only as blind as we want to be.”

“What,” Zuko gritted his teeth, “the hell does that mean?”

Iroh gave a humorless laugh.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko heard Katara before he saw her. Downing the remainder of his drink, he set his glass down and braced himself.

He followed the sound of her voice to the center of the large hall. There he saw her, hanging on Sokka’s arm talking animatedly about Agni-knows-what. She wore a midnight blue dress that hugged her figure before it flared at the bottom. Her hair was loose around and fell down her back in long waves save for two small pieces pinned to the crown of her head and held with a silver comb. She laughed and Zuko’s heart sung to the melody.

Aang spotted him first. “Zuko!” he called, waving him over. Aang stepped forward and embraced Zuko warmly.

“Quit hogging him!” he heard Toph complain somewhere behind Aang. Aang laughed and stepped away. “Bring it in, Sparky,” Toph said as she threw her arms around him roughly.

“Oof,” Zuko said feeling slightly winded and returning the hug. “I see your ways of showing affection have evolved, Toph.”

“Shut up,” she said, punching him squarely in the deltoid.

At that moment, Zuko felt a tug on his cape. Spinning around to see where it had come from, Zuko saw no one. Then, he looked down and found two toddlers tugging at his cape and draping it over their heads.

“Seya. Yona. Get out from there,” Suki’s voice scolded. “Come here.”

Suki wrangled her daughters from their make-shift tent and walked them in front of Zuko. “Fire Lord,” Suki said, holding each by the hand, “I’d like to introduce you to our children. Seya, Yona, say hello to Fire Lord Zuko.”

“Hallo, Fiyah Lowd Zuko,” they said in unison.

Giggling with a levity that was unbecoming of a fearsome Fire Lord, Zuko knelt down to the girls. “Hello Seya. Hello Yona. It is an honor to meet you.”

The girls giggled and hid their faces in their mother’s skirt.

“See, now you’ve got it!” Sokka said from above him.

Zuko pushed himself up to meet Sokka’s eyes. They were alight with humor and although he did his best to keep his lips pursed, Zuko saw the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s good to see you, Sokka,” he said, clapping him on the back and pulling him in for a hug.

“Oh what, you’ll bow to my daughters, but not to me?”

“Ah, please forgive my lapse in manners.” Zuko tightened his right hand into a fist and placed his left hand above it, resembling a small flame. He bowed his head.

“That—”

“Will have to do,” Zuko finished for him, smiling widely.

Finally, finally, finally, he looked to Katara. She lifted her chin to meet his gaze and Zuko felt suddenly that had no air left to breathe. “Master Katara,” he managed to get out, wanting to show her his respect for her accomplishments. This was, as he had discovered a few moments ago, a celebration to honor _her_. He bowed deeply.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“Master Katara,” Zuko said, bowing to her. Katara felt bile rising in her throat at his formality. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack him or kiss him. _A little bit of both._ She cleared her throat.

“Fire Lord Zuko.” Katara saw him wince. But, to his credit, he kept his voice smooth.

“It’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Likewise. It’s been too long.”

“Far too long!” Iroh interjected, appearing behind Zuko. “How many years has it been, Master Katara? Surely more than a handful.”

“Six,” she replied. _And five years of silence._ Katara felt an anger mount within her. She suddenly remembered how it had felt to bind his wrists in ice and point a dagger at his throat. He had to listen then. Maybe she should do that now. But, no. Propriety dictated that she not kick the Fire Lord's ass at an international celebration of peace. Even if he really deserved it.

 _The least you can do now is look at me when I talk._ She caught Zuko’s eye. The look she gave him was piercing. “Six years, General Iroh.”

Iroh tsked. “Six years too many then. Duty keeps my nephew quite busy. But he must understand,” he said placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder and squeezing, “that balance is key.”

“Yes, Uncle. Thank you, as always, for your wise words.” Zuko kept his tone cordial, but Katara could see and almost feel the tension reverberating off him.

Around her, she heard Sokka clearing his throat and became abruptly aware of their friends surrounding them. Katara sighed. _Not now._ She closed her eyes and tried to center herself.

“Well?” she said, holding her arms out. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug, Zuko?”

Zuko didn’t move, didn’t breathe for a second. He then stumbled forward. From where Zuko had been standing, Iroh tucked his elbow back into his side.

Recovering himself, Zuko took another step to close the gap between them. He gingerly placed his arms around her and slowly tightened until she could feel the warmth of his body against hers. She tightened her arms around his neck and breathed in the scent of him. Sandalwood and smokey warmth. As he began to release her, her mind screamed _not yet not yet not yet._ Her body acted of its own accord and clung to him for a half a second before Katara overrode it and dropped her arms, letting him step away.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Suki, Sokka, Aang, Toph, Katara, and Zuko claimed a table as their own and spent the evening reminiscing over their time together, catching each other up, and marveling over how much could happen in six years.

“What was that stupid form called again?” Katara asked, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“You mean the one that got me my bending back and thus enabled me to teach Aang firebending which thus enabled him to defeat my father which thus enabled the end of the war which thus enabled all of us to be sitting here right now?” Zuko said, quirking his eyebrow at her.

“Yep. That one.”

“Dancing Dragon.”

“Ahhhhhh!” Katara laughed unabashedly. At the memories. At Zuko’s reaction both then and now. At the joy of being with her friends again. At the feeling of being whole again.

“I’m going to get some tea. Would anyone else like some?” Zuko asked as he got up.

“Yes please!” Aang said.

“Sure,” Toph said.

“Make sure it’s an herbal tea,” Sokka said. “No caffeine for the pregnant lady.”

“Aren’t you thoughtful?” Suki gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, Zuko,” Katara said when he looked at her. “That’d be great.”

Katara reveled in this moment of simple happiness. The rest of the world seemed to fall away. Until a small voice arrived behind her.

“Katara?”

“Not now, Tori,” she said not bothering to turn around. Her eyes were fixed on Zuko across the room, stacking teacups onto a tray. She watched him as he dismissed a flustered servant. “No, no I got it. Really,” she heard him say. She saw the familiar warmth that he radiated. The quiet kindness that was so uniquely his. But there too was a guarded caution in him that she had never seen before. It made her heart break a little.

“But—”

“Actually,” Katara said, an idea springing into her head. “Can you bring me some paper and a brush? Quickly.”

Torikae disappeared and reappeared in less than a minute.

“Thanks,” Katara said, taking the paper and brush from him and waving him away.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko made his way around the table with the tea.

“Thanks, Your Fieriness!”

“Welcome, Your Quatuor Elementisness.”

“You remembered!”

“Of course. How could I forget?” _How could I forget anything about that day?_ It was branded into Zuko’s memory. He was no less able to wipe that memory from his mind than he could wipe the scar off his face.

“You’re not bad at this,” Sokka said as he took two cups from the tray Zuko offered.

“Tea server, remember?”

“Any other hidden talents, Zuko?” Katara teased as he set her cup down before her. “Anything else you’re not telling us?”

“Hmmm…” he deadpanned. “We’ve covered the evil dad, right? Mom left. Got banished, went a little mad. Sister tried to kill me. Katara saved me. Became Fire Lord.” Zuko fought the smile that tugged at his lips. “That about sums me up.”

Aang choked on his tea. Toph snickered.

“Oh,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Swords. I’m good at swords.”

Zuko watched his friends fondly as they rolled their eyes and shook their heads at his humor.

As he moved away from Katara he felt her press something into his hand and close his fingers around it. He remembered, somewhat painfully, the last time she had done this. He thought of the shadow lamp, still on his desk six years later. _It plays with opposites,_ she had said.

Zuko swallowed thickly and pocketed whatever Katara had given him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara slipped the paper into Zuko’s hand. _Please,_ she thought. _Please understand me._

She watched him slip the scrap of paper into his pocket. Too nervous to watch his reaction when he read it, she stood suddenly.

“Aang! You. Me. Cave jiving. Rematch. Now.”

“You’re so on,” Aang was beside her in an instant, tugging her toward the dancefloor.

Katara moved stiffly for a few minutes, constantly glancing over at their table to see if Zuko had read her note yet. He appeared to be comfortably engaged in conversation with Suki and Sokka. Aang seemed to notice her distraction.

“Katara? Hey.”

She looked at him.

“Just be here. Right here. Right now. This is a night to celebrate you. Nothing else matters.”

Aang had a skill like no other, Katara thought. His ability to see the good in every situation. In every person. He focused on the good. Not because he didn’t understand the bad, but because he knew it wasn’t worth dwelling on. Katara had learned so much from him in their years of friendship, but she had never been able to acquire his optimism.

_But, he’s right. This is the best night I’ve had in as long as I can remember. I shouldn’t waste it._

Katara loosened and followed Aang in a lively dance. She let herself leap and soar in a way that she hadn’t in years. She was present, mind, body, and spirit.

Or she was until she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“May I join you?” Torikae said.

_Fuck._

_Not now. Not with Zuko here._

“It’s really not the best time, Tori.” She wanted to look to Aang for help, but she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye right now. _These two worlds were never supposed to meet._

“Katara, please. All I’m asking is one dance.”

Katara looked at the man before her. She had done nothing but take from him. She knew that she should repay him. But she didn’t want to.

She settled for a dance.

“Alright.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko played with the thing Katara had given him. _A note_ , he thought after feeling it. _A secret note._ He wanted nothing more than to run from the banquet hall and read it in privacy. But he knew that would only raise questions. So, he sat with Suki and Sokka, listening to their stories of the past six years. Most of their stories were about their daughters and Zuko didn’t mind in the slightest, laughing along joyfully.

But the suspense was killing him. Furtively, he pulled the note from his pocket and held it in his lap. In Katara’s flowing script it said,

_We make our own destinies._

_What?_

_What?_

_What does that mean, Katara?_

He thought back to when he had said those words to Katara all those years ago on the day of the comet. Atop Appa on their way to a battle where Zuko would very nearly die, he had told her that everything that happened that day would be because of choices that they made. Not because fate said so. He’d told her that choices can change one’s path in life. He had told her that nothing is scripted. But, then, he’d told her that maybe he’d been blessed by fate when his choices led him to her.

Choices.

That’s what her note meant. She had made her choices and she wanted to let him know that she was sticking with them. She had made her own destiny.

Zuko felt as though he needed to vomit. He excused himself from Suki and Sokka, citing the need for fresh air. As he made his way out of the hall, he spotted Katara on the dancefloor dancing with…someone? A man he didn’t recognize. _Another of her choices_ he thought bitterly.

He left the hall, head held high as he had been taught all his life. _Never let them see your weakness._ To a passerby, the Fire Lord looked as stoic and strong as ever, shoulders held high and cape flowing behind him as he walked. Internally, Zuko was crumbling.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Torikae twirled Katara to a pleasant beat. She was alright, she told herself. _Everything is going to be okay_.

Katara almost believed it. Almost. Until she saw Zuko walking quickly toward the doors. She saw him look in her direction. Her heart seized when she saw a look of _disgust? hate?_ cross his face. He hesitated almost imperceptibly before he strode out of the hall.

And just like that he was gone.

_No._

_No._

_Spirits above, please, no!_

Katara clutched on to Torikae suddenly for support as her legs buckled beneath her.

_How? How could he leave? Does he not understand? How can he not understand? I told him exactly what he told me all those years ago._

_Or…wait. Does he understand?_

_._

_._

_._

_And he doesn’t want me?_

Katara’s heart exploded in a fit of anger and pain. From somewhere outside her she heard Tori calling her name.

_Fine._

“Let’s go, Tori. I’m tired.”

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to everyone?” Torikae asked.

“I said,” Katara’s voice was ice. “Let’s go to bed.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko paced around the balcony. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to calm him.

_How? How could she do this? Why would she do this? Why would she say something like this just to hurt me?_

It had been a pleasant evening until then. Zuko would treasure that hug for the rest of his life and the way she had lingered for a fraction of a second. Beyond that, he was content enough to just be in her presence. To hear her voice and the gentle ring of her laugh. To have her tease him.

Zuko wasn’t sure what he expected the note to say. But not this. Not to have her confirm the fact that she was happy out in the world while he hid behind the demands of his job and silently pined for her from a thousand miles away.

_You idiot._ He berated himself for allowing himself the tiniest glimmer of hope.

He had kept himself in check for so many years now that he could almost light the shadow lamp on his desk without sobbing. Almost. But when he had seen her tonight, he had allowed himself to think _maybe. Just maybe._

Zuko held the note in his palm, wanting to turn it into ash. He despised the way the words mocked him and his foolish hope. For that, it would burn. But, then again, perhaps he should pin it to his heart as a constant reminder. That way he would never allow himself to hope again. _See?_ it would say, _she never wanted you._

He lit a flame and watched the edge of the paper curl and blacken. At that moment, a sudden breeze lifted the scrap from his hand. The little fire died as the paper fluttered in the wind before it came to rest a few feet away. Annoyed, Zuko stooped to pick it up.

_But we are touched by fate._

_Wait, what?_

_WHAT?_

He turned the double-sided note over in his hand. He hadn’t read the other side.

_Oh._

.

.

.

.

.

.

_You idiot._

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara walked back to her room late that night. She was trembling for reasons completely unrelated to the temperature. She was tired. So very tired. Of trying. Of everything.

She stepped into her room, ready to resign to the blackness of sleep. Glancing at her bed, she gasped.

On her pillow lay a sprig of lavender.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lavender -- silence and devotion
> 
> Okay, so maybe this end was a little cruel too. 😈
> 
> Fun random note: Zuko doesn't like papaya...just like someone else we know. 
> 
> As always, your comments and thoughts on the story are so much appreciated! ❤️


	7. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go, love bugs. Development and dialogue-heavy chapter.

* * *

* * *

“So, then she gives me this note. And I misunderstood it at first. I went out to get some air and realized that I had read it wrong. I wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when I went back in to look for her, she was gone. I checked her room; I ran through the entire palace twice. I checked everywhere. I really tried. But I couldn’t find her.”

_Quack_.

Zuko laid on his back near the turtleduck pond. A turtleduck bobbed on the edge of the pond, nibbling at the piece of bread that Zuko held in his hand and quacking when it thought appropriate.

“And then I had to leave. We never had a chance to talk about it,” Zuko ran a hand over his face. “And now it’s too late.”

_Quack_.

“This whole thing is such a mess.”

_Quack!_

“What am I supposed to do now?”

_Quack_.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

“I’m not sure I would trust that advice,” a voice came from across the garden.

Zuko shot up to see Uncle walking towards him, two steaming teacups in hand.

“Ugh,” Zuko groaned as he fell backward again, covering his eyes with his arm. “How did you know I was here?”

“You’re not that mysterious, Zuko.”

Uncle took a seat on a bench near the pond.

“Is there something I can do for you, Uncle?” Zuko said, voice muffled under the fabric of his sleeve and arm still flung over his face.

“Not at all, nephew. I am just enjoying a peaceful afternoon with a cup of calming tea.”

Unable to muster the energy nor the desire to be annoyed, Zuko meditated on that. He allowed himself to feel the sunlight on his face and the soft grass beneath his body. He focused on the sensation of his breathing. Steady. Steady. He noted the dull, gnawing ache that had long since settled in his bones, the years making it familiar but no less painful. A constant reminder that he had learned to live with.

He had grown used to the dull ache that Katara had carved into him. But seeing her again gave a new edge to the pain. It had been more than a week, but his nerves still crackled at the memory of the brush of her hand against his.

_But why had she left so suddenly? And why had she been with…whoever that was? And where had she been all night?_

The turtleduck finished the bread and pecked at Zuko’s hand, demanding more. Parting the fog of his mind, Zuko said, “I don’t have any more, little one.” He brushed his hands off on his pants and stood. Uncle patted the spot beside him on the bench, inviting him over.

“You seem to have something on your mind if you’re seeking the advice of the turtleducks.”

“I can trust them.”

Uncle chuckled and handed him a teacup. They sat in peaceful silence for a moment before Zuko said, “This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

Uncle took a long sip of his tea. “An untended flower withers but an untended weed flourishes.”

“Uncle, please,” Zuko sighed. “I am begging you. Just this once. Say what you mean.”

“Ugly things fester. Things like resentment and anger tend to grow, unchecked, if you don’t pull them up by the root.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I…” he started but couldn’t commit to the denial. _Am I angry?_ he thought as the gnawing ache gave way to something fiercer. _Am I allowed to be angry?_ He thought of how Katara had silenced him the night that she left and the pain that it had caused him. It was more than just the longing of missing her. It was the hurt that came from how she hadn’t let him tell her why he didn’t want her to go. He thought of the sting of reading her letters and knowing that she was happy without him. He thought of Katara and her someone. Something dark simmered within Zuko as he ruminated on his thoughts.

“Avoiding this issue has not made it any easier, has it?” Uncle said, calling his attention back to the present. “If anything, do these years not show you that ignoring this problem will not make it go away? The weeds grow and grow and soon they will dominate your garden so much that you cannot remember what it looked like when it had flowers.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. Why wouldn’t it matter, Zuko?”

Zuko sighed, low and heavy. A sigh of resignation. Of defeat. “All I want is for her to be happy, Uncle. As long as she is happy, I don’t care what happens to me.”

“The most benevolent souls are the ones who have had to drink some of life’s worst poisons, yet protected others from ever having to taste them.”

To this, Zuko said nothing. He stared straight ahead, his eyes dark and focused on some distant invisible thing.

“I’m going to get more bread.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

If you asked Katara about the day of the celebration in Ba Sing Se, she could tell you all about how she had fussed with her hair for fifteen minutes before stepping out from behind the curtain. She could tell you the pride she felt at being recognized for her accomplishments. She could tell you about the hurricane of emotions that came with seeing Zuko again. She could tell you how she had laughed herself to tears in the company of her friends. She could tell you the fear and anger she felt when she saw Zuko leave. She could tell you how she had taken everything out on Torikae. But she couldn’t tell you what happened after she stepped into her room.

Aang knocked on her door the next morning when she didn’t show up for breakfast. Without an answer, he entered and found her in a crumpled heap.

“Katara?!” He knelt beside her and cradled her in his arms.

“ui…uind….ui….uin…”

“Katara talk to me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

She clawed at the edges of his sleeves. Anything to anchor her to the earth. Aang held her and rubbed soothing circles in her back until her breathing evened out.

“I ruined it,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“What are you talking about?”

“I messed up, Aang. So badly.”

“Does this have anything to do with why Zuko was looking for you last night?”

Katara stiffened. “He was looking for me?”

“Yeah. He came back in just a coupla minutes after you left and asked where you went.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That you went to bed?”

“Is that all you said?”

“Yes? Why?” Aang gave her a look of concern.

“Aang?” Suki’s voice echoed from the corridor.

“In here,” he called back through the open door.

“We were wondering—” Suki said as she came upon them. “Spirits, Katara, what happened?!”

Katara sniffled. She knew how she looked. She detested it. But she was trapped under the weight of her own mind and body, helpless and limp.

“Aang, go back to breakfast. I’ve got it from here.”

“But, shouldn’t I…?”

“It’s a sister thing,” Suki said, taking Katara’s hand and guiding her to sit on her bed. “Go on.”

Aang nodded and bent to give Katara a brief hug before he left.

Suki pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and passed it to Katara. Katara dabbed at her eyes and winced at the pain of the cloth against her raw and red eyes.

“Start at the beginning,” Suki said simply.

She did.

Katara told Suki about how Zuko had joined them and her distrust of him then. She recounted how he had stumbled upon her in the woods one night and that she had almost killed him. She told her how he had made it his mission to allow her to face the man who murdered her mother and how he’d taken care of her afterward. She told her what he had said to her on the way to fight Azula and how he had nearly died for her. She choked a little as she described what it had been like to turn him over and see the life literally draining out of him. What those agonizing minutes, hours, and days had been like when she thought she had lost him forever. “Every time he gasped in pain, I died a little,” Katara said.

Katara told Suki how her heart felt lighter every day that she saw him getting stronger. She told her how they had chased each other for those blissful few days before his coronation, stealing kisses and whispering promises that they wouldn’t keep. She told her how when she had hiked to the caldera’s edge, she felt called to serve the reconstruction effort. She told her how supportive he had been. Katara faltered when she tried to explain the last night they had spent together. She recalled the pain in Zuko’s eyes and the strain in his voice and her own voice gave out.

She told Suki why she couldn’t face him to say goodbye. That the instinctual self-preserving part of her mind had chanted _run, run, run_ even as her heart whispered _stay, stay, stay._ That when she sailed away from the Fire Nation that morning, she felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside.

She told her about their letters and how Zuko had suddenly stopped writing. At this, Suki asked to see the letters. Katara retrieved them from her bag. Suki read over them, holding the papers delicately as they were worn and fragile from all the times Katara had folded and unfolded them.

“What did you write before this one?” Suki asked pointing to Zuko’s one-lined “I’m out of soap” letter. Katara reached back into the archives of her memory, trying to recollect what she had said.

“I think I said something about him needing to not blame himself for not solving all the world’s problems instantaneously. And that he had pretty handwriting. And…” she pressed her hand to her forehead, conjuring her words, “that I had met a Firebender who could heat my tea for me.”

“You did what now?”

“What?”

“Why in the name of all that is holy would you tell him that?”

“He had been teasing me. Besides, I didn’t mean anything by it. Nothing happened,” she said truthfully. Nothing had happened. Yet.

“Katara, you wrote to a man halfway across the world who was so obviously in love with you that you met another firebender? He wasn’t teasing you. He was trying to tell you – and I will admit this is a stupid round-about way to say it but nevertheless – that he was hurting and that he missed you and that he wished that you wanted him in your life the way he wanted you in his.”

Katara froze. _So obviously in love with you._ Her thoughts began to fly around her head like angry hornets and they stung just the same. _He wished you wanted him in your life._

“And then you played right into his insecurity,” Suki continued. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it but think,” Suki landed hard on that last word. “Think,” she emphasized, “about how he would receive that.”

“But he never asked me to explain! He just went silent,” Katara could hear the defensiveness in her own voice and internally grimaced at it.

“Katara, he may have stopped writing out of hurt. But you stopped writing out of spite.”

“That’s not—”

“Katara,” Suki squeezed her hand and looked her in the eye. “Yes, it is.”

She felt so small. She had been trying so hard to do the right thing. Right by the world. Right by her own ambitions. But, in doing so she had done wrong by the one person she cared about most in the world.

Katara drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. It didn’t do anything to subdue the pain she felt in her chest or soften the lump she felt in her throat.

“But it’s been like that for years,” Suki said softly. “So, what is different about now? What happened last night?”

A wave of regret washed over Katara like a tsunami at Suki’s mention of last night.

“I wanted to let him know that, despite everything…” Katara was solemn. She let her chin rest on her knees and stared a thousand miles away, imagining a world where things were different. “Despite the years and the distance and the hurt, I want to be with him.”

“And how did you let him know that?”

“I gave him a note,” Katara paused when Suki cocked an eyebrow at her. Suki’s face remained skeptical, but she said nothing. Katara continued, “That I thought he would understand.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t.”

“I saw him storm out,” she said. “And I just assumed that that meant he was angry with me. And that he didn’t want me.”

“So that’s why you’re so upset this morning?”

“Not quite,” Katara said flatly. She reached across the bed and picked up the tiny sprig of lavender. It was limp and its flowers fell as Katara spun it between her fingers.

“I think,” Suki said, “the question now is: do you understand each other? Does he know what you meant by your note and do you know what he meant by whatever that flower means?” she said, pointing to the lavender.

“I’m not sure,” Katara sighed. “I know what I want it to mean. But maybe I’m chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught.”

Suki stared at her.

“Katara. I love you, but that is one of the stupidest things you’ve ever said.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Two weeks later, Zuko sat in his office, deeply engrossed in reading a new tax proposal when there came a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he called, not lifting his eyes from the document.

“Sir,” a guard said, bowing. “The Avatar requests an audience with you.”

_Now?_ _What could have gone wrong now?_ Zuko thought as he scanned his memory, trying to think of any reason that Aang could have showed up so suddenly. _I left on amicable terms. The next peace-keeping meeting isn’t for another few months. What could it be?_

“Send him in,” Zuko said, setting his papers aside and rising from his chair.

A moment later, Aang appeared in the doorway.

“Aang,” Zuko greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Just stopping by to see a friend!” Aang said, closing the distance between them and embracing him in a warm hug.

Zuko appreciated the gesture. Truly. But he did not trust it.

“But really,” he said, returning the hug. “Why are you here?”

Aang gave him a half-smile. “I thought you could use some company.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara gave Suki a quizzical look.

Suki shook her head and wrestled with her feelings of surprise, sadness and disappointment. Surprise that Katara could be so oblivious. Sadness at what could have been. Sadness at the wasted opportunity for happiness between two people that she felt truly deserved happiness after everything they had been through. Disappointment at Katara’s ignorance.

She knew that Katara could easily drown in the ocean of her own mind and that she would have to navigate carefully to guide her to calmer, more rational waters.

Knowing this, Suki began trying to lead Katara to the realization that she so clearly needed. She asked, “What do you want, Katara?”

Katara hesitated.

A beat.

Two.

“Him,” she admitted quietly.

“Why?”

“I love him.”

“How do you know?”

Suki watched Katara’s brows furrow. She was clearly surprised by the question.

“Because,” she started slowly, “he makes me happy.”

“What else?”

“Because he’s the best person I’ve ever met,” Katara said. “He’s so selfless. He’s so kindhearted. And he had to figure out how to be all of those things on his own. He’s so sweet and gentle. I know it’s hard to imagine,” Katara smiled as she thought of how the boy who had tied her to a tree was the same boy who had held her gently and kissed her softly after risking his life for her, “but he is the gentlest soul. He’s always thinking of me.”

Suki considered her words. She tried to find the kindest way to say this. “Therein lies the problem.”

“How is that a problem?” Katara asked curtly.

Suki regarded her sister. Katara the powerful. Katara the brave. Katara the compassionate. She pondered the many burdens of life that had molded Katara into the woman she was. Katara was brilliant and loving and loyal. But she wasn’t infallible.

She spoke. “Love is a game with two players. It can never be won. It’s never meant to be won. It’s supposed to go on forever. It’s meant to be a constant game of back and forth. Push and pull. Give and take. If all you do is take, then you’ve abandoned your other player. And the game doesn’t work with only one player.”

Katara sat unmoving.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

Katara shook her head. Suki tried a more direct approach.

“When Sokka and I first started dating, I thought I loved him. I loved everything about him. His smile. His bravado. His stupid jokes. But mostly I loved how he made me feel. He made me happy.”

Katara rolled her head in Suki’s direction as if to say, ‘how is that a bad thing?’

Suki smiled as she said, “But, over the past few years we’ve changed a lot. We’ve grown up. At one point, I realized something. I realized that I hadn’t really been in love with him when we were young. The way I loved him wasn’t the stuff that real love, lasting love, true love is made of. I loved him for myself. I loved the way he made me feel. But that was exactly the problem. Everything that I loved was because it made me happy, not him.

The way that I loved him when we were young was selfish. It was all about me. But I realized that love isn’t about me. It’s about _us._ My love for Sokka needs to be about him and us and me, in that order. When you love someone, you put them above yourself. You think of their wants and needs and ask yourself, ‘how can I give that to them?’ You think of their happiness and you ask yourself, ‘how can I help them achieve that?’ And you know that if you’ve found the right partner, they are thinking the exact same about you.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

“You know I’m always glad to see you,” Zuko said to Aang. “How long will you be staying?”

“I don’t have much of a schedule to keep to. However long you need me, I suppose.”

_Need you?_

“Shall I make us some tea then?”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara was quiet for a long moment. A few long moments.

_Whatever you decide, I’m with you._

“You love the way he loves you.” Suki’s voice was distant. “But do you love him?”

*_*_*_*_*_*

They sat on a balcony overlooking the city, sipping tea.

“So,” Aang said finally. “How are you holding up?”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Fine.”

Aang looked at him with a gentle smile that didn’t reach his eyes. A look that was somewhere between pity and condolence.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“I just know that it must have been hard for you… Back in Ba Sing Se.”

Though he understood what Aang had met, Zuko could not help his mind flashing back to the previous time that he and Katara had been in Ba Sing Se. The city seemed to drive a wedge between them, no matter how different the outside circumstances were.

“No,” Zuko said. “I had a great time.”

“Zuko, you’ve never been much of a liar.”

He felt a flash of irritation. It was quickly replaced by amusement as he realized that Aang was right. There was no use anymore. It couldn’t hurt any worse than it already did.

“I really did enjoy the party, you know,” Zuko said.

“Me too. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”

“So much has changed,” he said pensively.

“Some things, yes. But other things, not so much.”

Zuko cast a glance in Aang’s direction and was met with a very tranquil look.

“Do you know what my job is, Zuko?” Aang asked. “To bring things into balance. To bring the sun when the night has stretched too long. To help the moon grace the sky when she’s been gone too long. My job keeps the world turning on its axis. I make sure that yin and yang are balanced. Push and pull. And if they aren’t,” Aang turned to look at him. “Then it is also my job to push and pull the right things in the right direction until things are balanced again.”

“I’m guessing you’re about to do that to me,” he said, scowling. Zuko kneaded his temples under his fingertips though it did nothing to relieve the coiling tension within him.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Aang’s question was open, curious and genuine.

In that moment, Zuko was hit with the realization that Aang had no idea. No one did. Aang didn’t know that the way she had pressed her body against his that night was a ghost that Zuko felt constantly. He didn’t have any clue how the words that Zuko had to swallow that night poisoned him slowly over the years.

“Why didn’t she let me?” he snapped back.

“I don’t know,” Aang said, unbothered. “But it sounds like you need to talk.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

_You love the way he loves you. But do you love him?_ Suki’s words echoed in her ears. Each word cut deeper than the last as she processed them.

_I’ve been so stupid._

“I do love him,” Katara said, tears reappearing in her eyes as the realization dawned on her. “But he doesn’t know that.”

Suki nodded.

“Because I haven’t done anything to show him that.”

“Sounds that way.”

“I fucked up.”

“You’re human, Katara. You made a mistake.”

“How do I fix it?”

“Katara, you have to understand. It’s a game with two players. You can’t fix it all on your own. It’s not only up to you. It’s up to Zuko too. You don’t get to decide that you want to be together and then magically get what you want.”

“So, I have to talk to him.”

“You do.”

“But what if he doesn’t forgive me?”

Suki looked at her with that same patience that she had been giving Katara all morning. “It’s a game with two players. Once you talk to him, he gets to decide the next move.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara rummaged through her things, looking for her stamp. She poured a small pool of blue wax on an awaiting letter and pressed her stamp into the hot wax.

“Ready to go?” came Torikae’s voice from the doorway.

“Not exactly,” she said, blowing on the wax to cool it. “Come sit with me.”

As he approached her, her stomach churned. The guilt she felt was nauseating. But it was nowhere near powerful enough to deter her.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Katara said as he sat. “I haven’t been fair to you for years. And it was never your fault. You always treated me well.” Katara fidgeted until she schooled herself into sitting up straight and looking Torikae in the eye.

“It’s just that before you met me, there was someone important to me. But I left him to do my work here in the Earth Kingdom. Our work, Tori,” she amended.

“Left him? So, it was someone from the Water Tribes?”

“Well…no.”

“Fire Nation?”

“Yes.”

If Torikae realized the implication, he didn’t betray it. His face was stone.

“Who was it?”

Katara cringed.

“Does it matter?” she asked. She felt laid bare and wanted nothing more than to cover up. But she knew that doing so was part of the reason that she was tangled up in this mess. She didn’t want to tell Torikae, but she knew she had no right to refuse him. If he really wanted to know, she would tell him.

“I guess not,” he said quietly. Katara mentally thanked him for sparing her. “So, what? You decided that your work here is done and you’re going back to him?”

“Our work here isn’t done, Tori. But, my part in it is.”

His face remained impassive, but he sighed heavily. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Katara’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I think I always knew,” he told her.

“Tori, I never meant—”

He held up his hand to stop her.

“You’re not as secretive as you think you are. And I’m not as stupid as you think I am."

“For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Katara gave him a sad, half-smile. “Here,” she said, handing him the letter. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m appointing you to my position. This is a letter to the Earth Kingdom leader of the reconstruction, saying that I want you to assume my duties. You’ll be great.”

Torikae considered the letter in her offered hand for a moment before he took it and nodded. He rose in silence and crossed the room to the door.

“Goodbye, Katara,” Torikae said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Tori.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara exhaled slowly. The twinges of guilt nagged at her, but she brushed them to the side in favor of packing her things.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the courtyard where everyone had gathered to say goodbye. The group exchanged well-wishes and hugs as they went their separate ways.

Aang gave Katara a knowing smile as he pulled away from their embrace. “See you soon?” he asked.

“Absolutely. You owe me a spar.”

“Anywhere, anytime, sifu.”

Katara waved as Aang and Appa lifted off and blew kisses toward Seya and Yona as they rode away. She chuckled as Toph got into an ornate carriage, muttering something about how she could probably get home faster on her own.

The sun was at her back as she started down her own path, the long road westward.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is this chapter: “WHAT TURMOIL?!” Lol. Baby is having emotional whiplash. He’s hurting. He’s realizing that he’s been harboring this silent resentment for years and that makes him more upset. And on top of it all, he’s still hopelessly in love. All of these feelings are a swirling storm cloud in his head. So, forgive him for being a little all over the place.
> 
> The way Zuko loves Katara is much more selfless. (See how I say more? Not entirely, but much more so.) In contrast, the way Katara loves Zuko up until this point has been much more selfish. Both parties are more focused on Katara than they are on Zuko. That’s a problem. 
> 
> I hope this chapter has shown that the problems that Zuko and Katara have are not entirely one person’s fault. Both have done things to the other that have made their problems worse. Yes, Katara was insensitive to Zuko’s feelings in her letters. But Zuko assumed the worst of her. Is it understandable why he did? Yes. But was it right? No. 
> 
> GAH so much back-and-forth. Love is complicated, y’all. ❤️
> 
> Split chapter again. Titular component forthcoming.  
> 
> 
> ADDITIONAL NOTES:
> 
> Katara’s main problem in this fic is being ignorant of Zuko’s feelings. Every other problem that she has stems from that. It fucks her up. It fucks Zuko up. 
> 
> Katara’s fling with Tori was fucked up. But, not because Katara was betraying Zuko or anything like that. They have no ownership of each other. The reason that Katara and Tori have a fucked up relationship is that Katara was just using Tori as a distraction and replacement. Katara screwed up by having a poor coping mechanism, not by wanting to be with someone else. She is fully entitled to be with someone else. Katara sleeping with someone else is not a problem. THAT is not the problem. The problem is how she treated that someone. So, in truth, Zuko is pretty far-removed from Katara and Tori’s relationship. He really doesn’t have anything to do with it. He lives inside Katara’s head at this point.
> 
> Tori is a band-aid over the festering wound of Katara's heart. Katara didn’t get together with Tori with the intention of hurting him or Zuko. She got together with him because she was in a low place and needed some companionship. It. Is. A. Mistake. She’s human. Yes, she did something awful. Does that make her awful forever? No. Not if she atones and learns. 
> 
> Now, as to why I don’t think Zuko should take a lover to get back at Katara: this would contradict the theme of the story. Zuko doesn’t want to get back at her. He’s not interested in revenge. The way he loves Katara isn’t vindictive and possessive. He loves her, y’all. Like really loves her in the way that he only wants good things for her. Remember how much he wants Katara to come to her own decisions? He wants the same thing here. He’s not going to do something to make her jealous, because that would be manipulative. If Katara is going to love him, she’s going to do it of her own free will. 
> 
> When your partner hurts you, your first thought shouldn’t be, “how can I hurt them worse?” 
> 
> Katara made a mistake. A series of mistakes. But is she not worthy of forgiveness too? Isn’t she worthy of redemption?
> 
> She is.


	8. Five, continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies. Buckle up.

* * *

* * *

_let it go -  
the smashed word  
_ _broken open  
vow or the oath  
cracked lengthwise -  
let it go.  
it was sworn  
to go.  
  
let them go -  
the truthful liars and  
the false fair friends.  
and the boths and  
neithers -  
you must let them go.  
they were born  
to go.  
  
let all go -  
the big small, middling  
tall, bigger really,  
the biggest,  
and all things -  
let all go,  
dear._

_so comes love._

_-e.e. cummings_

* * *

* * *

Salty air had always been soothing to Katara. She relished the caustic little sting in her nose as she scanned the horizon for land from the bow of the ship. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Steady. Steady. She rubbed at her muscles, trying to work away the low, pulsating ache that had recently taken up residence in every joint of her body.

She didn’t understand where the pain had come from or why it was so diffuse. She had even laid in her bed one night, her hands coated with water and hovered over a sore spot. Her face twisted in confusion when she found nothing there for her to heal.

Standing on the deck of the ship, Katara could begin to make out two stone figures looming in the distance. The gates. And behind them, a massive island, towering proudly above the shining sea.

_I’ve never actually been invited here,_ she thought dryly.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara stepped off the ship and onto the docks. She carried with her nothing more than a satchel, the clothes on her back, and the foolish hope in her heart. The hope that would either be her ruin or her restoration.

When Katara approached the palace gates, she was recognized immediately. “We didn’t realize you were coming, Master Katara!” the servants had panicked, pushing the guards aside in an effort to rid Katara of the burdens of her journey.

Katara laughed easily. “That’s quite alright. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming.”

“Oh! So, His Lordship is unaware?”

Katara giggled at the formal reference to Zuko, before composing herself. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

“Please, allow me to show to your room. I’ll inform the Fire Lord of your arrival,” a sweet-looking house servant said.

She waved an impatient hand. “No. I’ll find him myself,” she said and took off before the maid could say another word.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara was led by nothing more than instinct as she wove through the halls of the palace. As she crossed the southern wing, the distant sound of crashing drew her attention. She followed the sound to a small arena that she had never known was there.

She climbed a set of stairs to a viewing balcony and peered over the edge to the scene below.

Zuko stood to one end of the sand-filled arena facing an opponent. Katara could see by the rise and fall of his naked chest that his breathing was fast but measured. He wore a pair of loose trousers synched at his ankles but was otherwise barefoot and shirtless. His hair was tied into a respectable high ponytail, but the loose strands of thick black hair plastered to his forehead betrayed his exertion.

She was compelled by him, her eyes never leaving his body as he fought. His movements were sharp and confident. How different they were from her own. Where she might use a long stream to target multiple things at once, he would send a volley of fire at one spot. Where she might pull, he would push. His forms were the incarnation of controlled strength, his command of power apparent in every move.

“May I bring you some refreshments, Master Katara?” a servant asked somewhere behind her.

“Hm?” Katara forced herself to peel her eyes away. “What was that?”

“You must be tired from your journey. Is there anything I can offer you?”

“Oh, no. Thank you,” she said dismissing the servant.

Katara hadn’t been distracted for more than a few seconds, but when she looked back to the arena, the spot where he had been was empty.

Before she could conjure an explanation, before she could form a single thought, before she could even breathe, there was a hand at her throat.

“Trying to sneak up on me?” a voice breathed into her ear.

_Zuko._

Her mind offered no other thoughts. No words, no plan. Only the flare of a precipitous and gripping need. Katara shivered despite the heat. She wanted nothing more than to lean back against his chest and draw his other arm around her. To be permitted to melt into him. But, she thought, she could claim no such privilege as her own.

Instead, she twisted around to face him. She thought this would be a safe move. _Wrong._ _So very wrong._

She was met with his unwavering gaze. Katara had seen his eyes a thousand times in her mind’s eye. She had them memorized. In her memory, his eyes were always alight. But now? Now they were molten gold.

Every nerve in her body caught fire. She scrambled away from him, anxious and burning.

If he was surprised by this, he made no demonstration. Instead, he casually rolled his shoulders and shrugged into a robe that a servant brought behind him. He crouched down to put on his boots.

“Hi,” Katara finally said, dumbly.

“Hi, Katara,” he said without looking up. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

“Katara!” Aang said joyously when he saw her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah, well,” Katara said. “I’m full of surprises.”

Aang chuckled. “Where’s Tori?”

_Tori?_

“He’s not here. We’re not traveling together anymore.”

_Oh. The someone._

“Am I sorry to hear that?” Aang asked.

“Not particularly,” Katara responded, shifting uncomfortably.

Zuko felt marginally better at her response. He cleared his throat. Both Katara and Aang turned to look at him, expectantly. “I’m going to have a bath. We can have dinner after that, if you’d like.”

“Actually,” Aang said, “I was going to take Appa to the Northern part of the island for the night. There’s a canyon where the air currents make it so you can almost fly without bending! Imagine what I could do _with_ bending!”

“You must regale us with the details when you get back,” Zuko called over his shoulder as he strode toward his chambers, not caring how Katara stared after him.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Dinner was an easy enough affair. It wasn’t too difficult to keep awkward conversation to a minimum when there were half a dozen people buzzing around serving more plates than Katara knew what to do with. She muttered a polite “thank you” every time someone set something down in front of her or took something away. Between that and actually eating, there wasn’t much time for any other conversation.

*_*_*_*_*_*

“Quite the job you’ve done, Fire Lord Zuko,” she said, stepping into his office after their meal and admiring the large world map that occupied one wall. Where there were once markers of Fire Nation battalions, there were now little Earth Kingdom villages.

Katara traced the path of her travels along the large map. As she did, she noticed small, light hand-drawn circles in the places she had lived, worked, and done her projects. She smiled to herself.

He clicked the door shut behind them. “Just Zuko.”

“You always were good at tracking,” she said, gesturing toward the map.

“I didn’t have much to go off of. But yes, I’ve always been interested in…” he paused, and his eyes flicked over the map. “…your work.”

Katara hummed as she walked her fingers along the edge of his desk. At the far end, near the wall, she saw a familiar object. It was well-worn, the finish of the metal rubbing off in some places where, Katara assumed, Zuko had picked it up many times. The little wave sculpture was coated in soot, a testament to its many hours spent before a flame.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Zuko settle into a chair.

She picked up the shadow lamp, careful not to spill the small amount of oil sitting in its well and placed her other hand to cover it.

Across the room, Zuko watched her with what Katara could only assume was curiosity. He made no move to stop her as she picked up the shadow lamp. If anything, he only grew more still.

She crossed the room and knelt before him. She opened her hands to show him. “You still have it,” she said, reverently.

“I do.”

“Will you light it?”

“There are some spark rocks near the fireplace.”

“No, Zuko.” Her voice wrapped around the syllables of his name the way the wind kisses the leaves on an autumn day. “Will _you_ light it?”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko sighed as he took the shadow lamp from her and produced a small flame to light the oil. He placed the burning lamp gingerly on a side table, nudging it toward the wall until the shadows danced with the flicker of the flame. A dance of give and take. When the flame soared, the shadow of waves shrank.

Katara still knelt before him. A small part of him wanted to lunge forward and pin her down. A much larger part of him wanted to see what she was up to.

She raised her hands tentatively, palms facing forward, showing him what she was going to do. She came to rest both of her hands just above his knees. Zuko hissed when she moved them to trail slightly up his thighs.

She froze. “Zuko, please.” She leaned back on her calves and rested her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” came his curt reply.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

He met her eyes, defiantly and huffed. “Katara, you are free to make your own choices. I don’t blame you for them.”

“Why would you blame—” she stopped suddenly. Horror crept into her features and settled into her widened eyes and gaping mouth. Her voice was a harsh whisper, like a winter wind. “What do you know?”

“I know enough.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

_No._

_No._

_Fucking spirits above, no._

“I…” She had no idea what to say. She felt as though she were a passenger on a train hurtling inevitably toward catastrophe.

“I mean it, Katara. I don’t blame you. And you owe me nothing. Not an apology. Not even an explanation.”

_No._

_No._

_Don’t give up on me._

He must have seen her confusion because a strange look crossed Zuko’s face.

“If I can’t have you, Katara — not that I ever did — but if I can’t have you and make you happy, I still want someone to. All I want is for you to be happy. I wanted to be the one to give that to you. But, if not me, someone else. As long as you are happy in the end.”

Katara sat in stunned silence before she said, “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Why would I be angry?”

“Because it wasn’t supposed to be this way!” She wanted to shake him.

“It wasn’t supposed to be any way, Katara. We make our own destinies.” He was calm. Too calm.

“Yes, Zuko. We do,” she agreed, trying to find some common ground, “through a maze of choices where we don’t know what we’re trying to reach. I know I took some wrong turns. But I still ended up here. With you,” she said, leaning forward. “Right now. That has to mean something.”

“It means,” he said deliberately, “that you and I have always been on a collision course. But what we do with that is up to us.”

“Then let’s do something with it,” she pleaded. Her thoughts were scattered in a hundred different directions, desperately trying to piece together a way to reach him.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you don’t get to make all the decisions?” His tone was biting. He kept his eyes on the floor, unwilling to see the tears that indubitably shined in her eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing and it _stung._

He balled his hands into fists as he prepared the words. “Katara, what would you do for me to forgive you?” He heard her breathing pick up and evolve into rapid shallow cycles.

“Anything.”

He dugs his nails into his palms, silently begging his nerves to focus on the pain in his hands rather than the pain in his chest. He avoided her eyes, looking past her to some distant, invisible thing. Beside him, the shadow lamp flickered and went out. Katara didn’t see the little flick of his wrist that killed the flame.

“Then leave.”

Two heartbeats in sync.

One stuttered.

The other kept its steady pace.

“Zuko, please,” her voice cracked entirely. Not so much a voice cracking as a soul splitting open.

He put a hand to her lips and pushed her away.

“Don’t.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

The next morning, Katara sat on the edge of the world watching the first twinkling rays of sunlight breathe life into the sky. She watched as dusky purple gave way to a soft pink that blossomed into a fiery orange that finally yielded to a soothing, steady blue.

She didn’t hear Aang’s light footsteps until he was only a few feet away. He bent down beside her to sit and dangled his feet over the clifftop.

“How were the air canyons?” she said as he sat.

“Great! I didn’t stay too long though. I had a feeling that someone might need me,” he poked her gently in the side.

“You didn’t have to come back just for me. I’m fine,” she lied.

Aang rolled his eyes. “You two are exhausting,” he said good-naturedly.

Katara gave him the harshest look she could muster, which only made Aang reach an arm around her and pull her into a side-hug.

She knew she didn’t have to explain. Aang had become incredibly perceptive over the years. He inferred as much as he needed to but was happy to leave the details obscure.

“It seems like we’re never on the same page. I don’t know why it has to be so complicated.”

“Let it go.”

“Huh?”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“Aang, with all due respect to your infinite wisdom or whatever, but what the actual fuck are you talking about?”

He chuckled. “Let it go – the smashed word, broken vow, or the oath cracked lengthwise. Let it go. Let all go. So comes love.”

“You want me to just forget everything that’s happened?” she said, incredulously.

“No. Those experiences have changed you. Molded you into the person that you are. But those things are fleeting. You’re forever changed by them but not forever bound by them.”

“Then what?” she asked.

“You’ll be free. To do whatever you need to do. To see. To be. To love.”

Katara thought for a moment. How badly she wanted that. But she had ruined things — perhaps to a point beyond salvaging.

“You don’t know the things we’ve done,”

“I don’t need to.”

“How not?”

“The details are between you and him. But I deal in broad strokes and I know the masterpiece that is love. And I’m telling you that if you are completely open with him and he is completely open with you, you will find the chains that are keeping you from each other. You can unshackle each other of your pasts. Let go. And so comes love.”

_I will if you will, Zuko._

_No,_ she reconsidered.

_I will._

“Thanks,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Guru goody-goody,” she added with a small laugh.

“Anytime.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

The years had built stone walls around Zuko’s heart. Each day another brick. Each year another layer. But Katara was water. When she washed over him, she found a way to seep through the cracks.

He stood on his balcony, watching the sunrise. An early riser nonetheless, Zuko had been up for hours. Rather, he’d never gone to sleep.

He fiddled with the tiny metal ridges of the lamp as his mind lobbed an endless barrage of half-formed thoughts at him.

_We make our own destinies_

_Her hands on his lips as he’d implored her not to go._

_Don’t, she’d whispered._

_His hands on her lips as she’d pleaded with him._

_Don’t, he’d whispered._

_But we are touched by fate_

_The ghost of fingertips as she swept a hand across his cheek._

_Her, ethereal in the moonlight_

_Her hands on his chest, bloodied. Her tearstained cheeks._

_The look in her eyes as he’d pushed her away last night._

Zuko growled at the storm in his head. Looking again to the sky, he deemed it light enough to channel his feelings into something decidedly less convoluted. He slipped out of his chambers and made his way briskly to the training arena.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Zuko tried to focus his thoughts on the sensation of the stretch in his muscles as he warmed up. But the intrusions were frequent and numerous.

_‘Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is,’_ the echo of her disquieting his mind. ‘ _It wasn’t supposed to be this way.’_

Swimming in his thoughts and engrossed in his warm-up routine, he startled only slightly when he heard a soft ‘ahem’ from the arena entrance.

“Now you really are trying to sneak up on me,” he said humorlessly as he watched Katara take a few trepidatious steps towards him.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

Katara looked offended.

“Did you mean…last night? That you want me gone? Gone gone?”

Zuko shook his head. “I guess I wasn’t particularly clear.”

“Story of our lives,” she joked.

Zuko cracked a smile and a sound escaped him that could have been construed as a laugh.

“I can go, if you want,” she said.

“You can stay, if you want,” he replied and returned to his stretches.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara watched Zuko stretch from one end of the arena as she performed her own warm-up movements. He wore a sleeveless, deep red tunic and black pants. Katara couldn’t tell if they were pajama bottoms or training pants. She studied his face and saw a dark shadow beneath his eye. His hair, usually combed neatly into a topknot, was loose and rumpled.

Someone didn’t sleep well either.

An idea crept into her mind.

_‘It’s a game with two players.’_

_Alright,_ she told herself.

_We need to get some things out in the open. You need to see me. And I need to see you._

_And then it’ll be your move._

_But first,  
  
_

“Zuko, spar with me.”

He gave her a questioning look. He knew the request wasn’t an innocent one. Not a friendly match of skill. He knew that from the moment Katara had arrived, he’d have to contend with her and the demons of their past.

He knew these things, but he nodded anyway and took his position across from her.

They began as they always did. A quiet moment before the storm.

Zuko moved first.

He threw a wide arc of fire. Katara ducked and readied herself to launch a jet of water back at him. But when the fire dispersed, Zuko had disappeared from where he had been a moment ago.

Katara spun around, wreathing herself with a water whip. A ball of fire flew toward her face and she pulled a sheet of water in front of her to block it. She dropped the sheet and rearranged it into two snakes that she shot out in the direction that the fireball had come from.

Zuko leapt backward out of her reach, cracking a whip of fire across her twin water snakes to sever them. Katara stood in the middle of the arena, turning by degrees to follow him as he circled her from the edge of the arena.

The way he moved around her was predatory.

She watched his footwork, looking for the subtle shift of his weight that would tell her when he was about to spring on her. His steps were nearly silent in the sand as he stalked around her. Katara felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Zuko traced the path of her eyes and smirked. He crouched, centering his weight over his right leg and extending his left leg to the side. He touched one hand to the sand and watched Katara tense. She curled the fingers of her right hand around her water, ready to snap it at him.

He swept his left leg forward. A bright line of fire followed the arc of his kick and hurtled toward Katara, low to the ground.

Katara pitched forward to avoid the rope of fire at her ankles, trying and failing to get her hands out in front of her before she hit the ground. She had been coiled, ready to meet him when he jumped. But he hadn’t.

The world was suddenly sideways and Zuko walked into her field of vision. 

“On your feet,” he commanded, offering her a hand.

He pulled her up and stepped away, beckoning her to continue.

Katara snarled. She raised her arm above her head and brought it down suddenly, slicing through the air. A trail of water followed her path a fraction of a second later and lashed Zuko across the chest, sending him stumbling backward.

She bent the moisture out of the air into ice pellets and rocketed them toward him. He didn’t deflect. Tiny red blossoms appeared on his skin.

He recovered and pointed an arm in either direction, drawing a ring of hot flames around the both of them. She formed two tidal waves in quick succession and propelled them toward him. He easily evaporated the first with a burst of fire but mustn’t have been expecting the second as it slammed into him and drenched him.

Katara watched with fascination as steam rose in plumes from his skin. He was at least ten feet from her, but the heat of him overwhelmed her, stifling and burning. His chest heaved with what Katara thought was exertion, but the ferocity that burned in his eyes told her it was something else.

_Good. Get angry._

She needed to get him angry enough to re-open the wounds that they’d inflicted on each other for years. She needed to lay herself bare to him and him to do the same to her. This was their only chance for catharsis.

And if…

If then he decided that he didn’t want her, she’d leave. She’d be unquestionably heartbroken, but she’d be free in the knowledge that she’d finally let him come to his own decision without secrets and misunderstandings. She could let go and see if love comes.

Zuko lunged toward Katara, a blade of fire in each hand. He brought each down upon her, his fire sizzling only inches from her face as Katara shielded herself. She built an ice wall between them and picked off small shards to launch daggers at him. He spun away, wielding his dual fire swords once again to cut through the ice.

She used his momentum against him, interrupting his movement with a swift blast of water to his abdomen to throw off his balance. He toppled to the ground with a grunt.

“Get up,” she ordered, offering him a hand.

She pulled him up and stepped back. He rested his hands on his knees for a moment, controlling his breath. When he straightened, she gasped and instinctively brought her hands up to defend herself. The look in his eyes was brutal and unforgiving.

She hated it.

Katara flung a whip at him, but he side-stepped it. He reciprocated with a tunnel of fire that encompassed itself around her water, evaporating every drop that she had. Katara looked frantically around the arena searching for another source. Spotting a small cistern, she faked a lunge to the right and sprinted to the left toward it and prayed that Zuko’s reflexes were slower than hers.

They weren’t.

He was on her in an instant. She felt rapid lobs of fire rush past her on either side of her head as she ran. She rolled to the ground, trying to escape his barrage. His fire was merciless.

He skidded on his knees behind her as he caught her. He wrapped both arms around her from behind, binding her arms to her sides.

“Surrender?” he said, leaning down. She could feel his breath on her neck as she fought to suppress a shiver. His scent, sandalwood and sweat and smoke – so much smoke – made her head spin. She fought against his restraint but not without noticing how the muscles of his arms bulged as he struggled to keep her captured.

“Never,” she said, throwing all her weight forward and wrestling out of his hold to scamper away.

Her sudden movement left him unguarded for a moment and Katara seized the opportunity to pull the water from the cistern to her. She coiled two streams of water around his wrists and jerked him forward. As she did, she encased his hands in water, stealing his ability to conjure his fire. His head snapped up and Katara watched wisps of smoke escape his nose with each breath.

Zuko thrashed in her grasp. Maintaining her elemental hold on him, she closed the distance between them and began to walk him backward.

“Do you yield?” Katara asked as his back hit the wall. She pinned his wrists above his head and pressed forward into him, pushing one leg between his.

Zuko glanced downward. “When have you ever known me to give up?” He hooked his leg around hers and yanked, sending her crashing down _._ Katara managed to encircle her arms around his waist as she fell, pulling him down with her.

She landed on her back and although she’d fallen hard enough to knock the wind out of her, the physical pain was of no consequence when she looked up at him. She took a sharp breath in as she met his blazing eyes. His knees pinned her hips to the ground, and he reached behind him to unknot her hands from where they clutched around his waist.

Katara felt like she was about to combust. Whether that was from the way he was watching her like he wanted to destroy? devour? her or the weight of his body on top of hers she couldn’t tell.

She lurched beneath him and he leaned forward to put his hand on her shoulder to hold her down. She turned her head and bit his hand.

“You little,” he hissed without conceding his grip.

“Hurt me, Zuko,” she challenged. His good eye widened slightly. “Hurt me like I hurt you.” She clawed at his thighs on either side of her hips, digging her nails through the thin fabric of his pants before she met his eyes again, goading him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled, low and ominous.

“Then what do you want?” she challenged again. Her eyes were ablaze. Blue fire. The hottest part of the flame.

A beat.

“I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you are!” she yelled as she shoved him off and sat up. “ _We_ are doing this!”

He turned from her. Katara watched his shoulders tremble, but from anger or despair she didn’t know.

“Don’t you think you at least owe me that, Zuko?!” she said, getting to her feet.

“Oh, sure,” he spat, looking over his shoulder at her. “Tell me more about what I owe you, Katara!”

“You owe it to me! To yourself! To the kids who saved each other!” she shouted. “What happened to us? What happened to ‘I’m with you’? We were everything and then we were nothing!”

“You left!” He spun to face her and was about to say something else when Katara cut him off.

“Did you want me to stay and just fall in line?! Shrink into the background while you make world-changing decisions?!”

“You never let me finish! Not then, not now!”

“Then tell me! You’ve had six years to tell me!”

“I never wanted you to fall in line! I wanted you to live your life for you! That’s what I told you! But,” he said, “I didn’t want to get in your way. Or force you into anything. That’s what I didn’t tell you.”

“You never forced me into anything! How could you have? You ignored me!”

“I never—" his face was twisted.

“Maybe I left, but at least I was always honest with you!” she ran over him. “You couldn’t even say it to my face!”

“AT LEAST I DIDN’T FUCK SOMEONE ELSE!”

The words hit her like a lightning bolt. Katara saw red.

“YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T BLAME ME FOR THAT!”

Their screams cut through the still morning air.

“I DON’T!” he screamed. “BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN IT DOESN’T HURT!”

“WHAT IS THIS? A PISSING CONTEST OF WHO SUFFERED MORE?” Katara was wild with rage. She knew he should be angry. But she was angry too. “You left me high and dry for five years, Zuko! Hiding away here while I wondered about what I did to deserve your scorn. Every day for five years!” she screamed, her voice breaking on the last two words.

“I thought it’s what you wanted!”

“Why the fuck would that be what I wanted?”

“I don’t know! But you seemed happy. And you were doing so well. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“What if I wanted you in the way? You decided for me! You don’t get to do that!”

“I just figured you were better off without me.”

“Why, Zuko? Why the hell would you think that? What did I do that made you think I didn’t want you?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” he grew quiet.

Katara looked at the man before her. Zuko the powerful, who could burn down a forest with his anger or shatter iron chains with his strength. Zuko the selfless, who would offer to steal a Fire Navy ship if it would help Katara. Zuko the gentle, who talked to animals and let toddlers play with his cape. Zuko the damaged, who for all the love he gave, received pitifully little in return.

She reached for him slowly, affording him the opportunity to back away if he wanted. He allowed her to enter his space. But when she laid a careful hand on his face, he flinched.

“Shhh…” she soothed. “It’s alright.” He softened slightly beneath her touch but still did not speak. “Talk to me.” She stroked his cheek gently. “Please.”

Zuko took a shuddering breath. “I thought you had found everything you wanted in life. Your work was so meaningful. You were finally doing exactly what you wanted _for you_. I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want to tell you how much I missed you and have you feel obligated to make me feel better. I know how you are. You can’t resist helping people who you think need you,” he gave her a sad smile and covered the hand on his face with his own. He gave it a light squeeze before removing both of their hands. “And besides all that, you had…” his eyes clouded. “Someone.”

“That was…a mistake.”

“A _five_ year-long mistake?”

Shame burned within her. “I’m not proud of it, Zuko. I was in a very bad place. I was so lonely and hurt. All I wanted was you. Even just a letter from you would have kept me sane. But you never wrote. And it wasn’t like…” she shifted uncomfortably, “that… for a long time between us. I didn’t just jump into bed with the first Firebender I met.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have even asked. You don’t need to explain your choices to me.”

“I think that’s exactly what I need to do.”

“Please, Katara, I really don’t want to hear more about—”

“Not that,” she said, cringing at his assumption. “I think I need to tell you that even though leaving was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, I don’t regret it.” Katara’s heart broke a little when Zuko winced at her words. But she needed to be honest. “I don’t regret my work and the impact that I made on the world.”

Zuko took a shuddering breath. “You were so good at it.”

“Did you begrudge me that?”

“No! I was proud of you. So proud of your accomplishments. I knew how hard you had to work for them. I didn’t write because I didn’t want to introduce anything that might take away from your work. Because I know how important your work is to you. I didn’t want to force you into anything.”

“There are other things that are important to me, too. Besides, when have I ever let _anyone_ force me to do something?”

He breathed through his nose, a quick breath, the ghost of a laugh.

“Never.”

“You’ve never forced me into anything, Zuko. My choices are my own. But maybe that’s part of the problem. I never thought about how my choices would affect you.”

_When you love someone, you put them above yourself. You think of their wants and needs and ask yourself, ‘how can I give that to them?’ You think of their happiness and you ask yourself, ‘how can I help them achieve that?’ And you know that if you’ve found the right partner, they are thinking the exact same about you._

“You’ve put me first for as long as I’ve known you,” she said placing her hand over his chest where she knew another scar lay beneath his shirt. “You thought you were less important, didn’t you? You thought your happiness was less important than mine.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“And I acted like it was.”

The realization was painful. It rattled around Katara’s heart like a feral animal trapped in a cage. It snarled at her as if to say, ‘I’ve been here all along, but you were too blind to see me.’

Katara felt her knees tremble. She wanted to collapse under the weight of her guilt and sorrow. She wanted to scream and cry. She wanted to throw herself at him and bury herself in the warmth and comfort of him. But she steadied herself. For once, this wouldn’t be about her.

“I am so sorry, Zuko.” She tried to keep her voice as even as possible, but she couldn’t help the silent tears that slipped down her cheeks. “So very sorry.”

A thumb swiped at the tears under her eyes.

“I hate to see you cry.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy it either,” she said with a weak stab at humor. “But this isn’t about me or what I want. It’s about what you want. What you want matters so much. And I know I’ve been horrible at showing it.”

She scanned his face for any sign, any trace of emotion that would tell her what was going on inside his head. But he betrayed nothing.

Except, perhaps, the faintest spark that hid behind guarded eyes.

“Your happiness matters to me more than anything else.”

Zuko closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

She felt something ease inside her. A tension in her heart that she never knew she was carrying. It unwound slowly with each successive heartbeat and was gradually replaced by a tender warmth.

_Let all go._

_So comes love._

_But,_ she thought, _love is a game with two players._

_Your move, my love._

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Right now,” he said, picking grains of sand out of her hair, “I want to go get cleaned up.”

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theeeeeere’s those famous tempers!
> 
> I’m finding that my favorite scenes to write are the ones with high tension between them. I hate writing the ones where they’re not on the same page. It’s necessary for their journey, but I don’t like it any more than y’all do! But I LOVE the one where Katara first finds Zuko and of course that delicious sparring scene. The trepidation! The chase! The physical chemistry!
> 
> A note on the sparring scene:  
> Oh my god the sparring scene was so fun to write. Let me tell you about it.  
> The spar is a giant metaphor for their relationship.
> 
> It begins with a brief attack from Zuko followed by a slow chase. Katara wants to be on the offensive here, but it’s all she can to defend herself. (Book 1, anyone?) The little trick that Zuko pulls to knock her down is when he betrayed her in the catacombs.
> 
> Katara lashes back at him, angry. She’s relentless in her offense. Zuko just takes it. Doesn’t try to defend himself. He draws a ring of fire around them, trying to bring them together. It doesn’t work. That’s pre-Southern Raiders.
> 
> Then, the match seems balanced for a moment. Zuko gets totally swept up by her (getting drenched by the 2nd tidal wave). Katara is overwhelmed by the heat of him. This is post-Southern Raiders, during the comet, before the coronation, etc. etc. That wonderful, fragile time between them when they were completely infatuated with each other.
> 
> There’s a brief struggle of hand-to-hand combat (the blades of fire and ice daggers). This is the brief encounter that they have right before Katara leaves. No one actually lands a blow because no one actually says what they mean! Finally, Katara knocks Zuko down. That’s her leaving.  
>   
> Then they wrestle for control for a little while. Zuko’s got the crazed look in his eye from all the emotional turmoil. Each gets the upper hand for a moment before they lose it again. There’s no clear winner. They both fall and have this intense stare-down. But they don’t speak. Because of course they don’t. That’s chapters six and five of this fic. Finally, it evolves into the full-blown confrontation that they always needed to have. Everything boiled over and they finally get things out in the open.
> 
> There’s anger and frustration and sexual tension and pain built into the scene because remember, it’s not a shot-for-shot recreation of their relationship. It’s a recounting of it as Zuko and Katara see it. So, it has their feelings overlaid.
> 
> Update: Merruschka made art of the scene where Katara spies on Zuko training and he sneaks up on her. AHHHHH.


	9. Five, the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning, love bugs. Sorry this took forever! I'm on a much busier rotation now, but don't worry. This story is my baby. I'm not going anywhere.

* * *

* * *

_to be_ _soft  
_ _is  
_ _to be_ _powerful_

_-rupi kaur_

* * *

* * *

Zuko sat in the garden meditating. He was perfectly still, eyes closed, legs crossed and folded beneath him, hands on his knees with palms facing up and breaths regular, slow and measured. His hair was drawn into a half knot, a small pile atop his head and the rest hanging loosely around his shoulders, washed and clean. He had foregone most of his more formal daily attire in favor of a lighter robe and loose trousers, preferring today to not be stifled beneath the heavy burden of regalia.

He sat beneath a vine-covered pergola in a corner of the garden. He normally meditated in his bedroom where he found solace in the stillness. But today, he found the little stream of water that ran beside the pergola soothing.

Outwardly, he was the image of tranquility.

Inwardly, he was a tsunami. A sea of frustration, relief, anger, longing, uncertainty, hope, love. He was drowning in the unrelenting, crashing waves. Katara’s careful touch on his face. Her kindness. Katara screaming at him. Her stubbornness. Katara struggling in his grip. Her strength. Katara pinning him. Her power. The look in her eyes when she had asked, ‘what do you want?’ A look he had never seen before.

_What do I want?_ The question was straightforward. Yet, it puzzled Zuko like no other. He had solved hundreds of problems in his life. He’d tracked people across the globe with nothing more than a map and his intuition. He had earned the trust of people who were once his enemies. He had brokered complicated negotiations and navigated his way through a maze of interweaving interests, both foreign and domestic. He’d listened carefully to each side and weighed every consideration in careful adjudication. And soon enough in every instance, truth revealed itself.

But now? Now was not a time of facts and arguments. Now was a time of want and need and love and pain. None of those things were so easily arbitrated. Still, he tried. _What do I want?_

_You,_ his mind answered, conjuring an image of Katara.

_I’ve wanted you for so long. I want to be important to you. The way you’re important to me._

And so, the truth revealed itself. He’d lived with it, bound up in his heart like a shackled prisoner that he refused to let see daylight. And so, he ached. Ached as the truth thrashed within him, protesting the injustice of being hidden. It seeped into his bones and gnawed at him slowly. _‘Release me,’_ it said, wearing him down, day by day. _‘Let me be free.’_

_‘But free means open,’_ logic had snarled back. ‘ _Open means able to be hurt.’_

And so, it had been for many years. Trapped in a tango of desire and fear that danced to the beat of his heart.

“I’m sorry.” Katara’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you want to be alone?” She stood at the pergola threshold. Her hair was still damp from her bath, and loosely pulled back behind her shoulders. She wore a light-colored robe with a deep navy sash tied around her waist. Its color was so light that it could be mistaken for white at first glance. But, Zuko saw its swirling patterns of faint blue that gave way to a soft cream color. He’d never seen her in that color before.

He said nothing. Only opened a hand and gestured beside him, bidding her welcome if she would accept his silent invitation. She nodded and approached.

Zuko studied her. He was entranced by the intensity of her eyes. They were unwavering, a quiet but indefatigable assuredness burning within their blueness. A shiver crept up his spine, although he couldn’t place its source as fear, anticipation, curiosity, desire, or a strange mix of all of them.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Zuko asked as Katara sat beside him.

“No, of course not,” she said, placing a hand at her side. Well within his reach. “I can hold my own against you.”

“Believe me,” he scoffed. “I know that.” He kept his own hands folded in his lap.

“It seems like you need a little reminding.”

“Is that why you’re here? To put me in my place?” He chanced a glance over to Katara, expecting to serve her a pointed glare but he froze when he saw the panic written across her face.

“No! That’s not—” she stammered. “Damn it, why do I always mess this up with you? The letters, the note, last night, and now this. Why is it so hard for me to talk to you?”

“I don’t know, Katara. I’m not trying to make things hard for you,” he said with half sincerity, half sarcasm.

“Don’t do that!” Katara said, exasperated. Zuko might have guessed that she was as tired of this as he was. He longed to touch her, to connect with her. He was so tired of talking past each other and talking in circles. He almost reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, before he caught himself. If he were honest, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop if he started.

When she looked at him again, her eyes were soft. “You’re my favorite person in the world to talk to. You’re my best friend. But somehow, I keep saying the wrong thing. I’m not trying to hurt you, but somehow I keep doing it anyway.”

“You don’t have this problem with anyone else,” he pointed out.

“It’s not the same with anyone else.”

“How not?”

She looked at him, helpless. As if she were begging him not to make her say it. His heart broke a little at her struggle. But a deeper, darker part of him smiled in some sick satisfaction.

The years had tortured them both. Time and distance had twisted what had been a beautiful, innocent love into a guarded uncertainty. Assumptions and silence gave way to anger and resentment.

Yet, here they both were. Finally together. His memory of her paled in comparison to the reality that was Katara. Here she was in all her grace and her frustrating stubbornness. He could reach out and touch her if he wanted. And how he wanted to.

As if she could sense what he was thinking, Katara leaned slightly toward him, almost imperceptibly. He could feel her hand twitch next to his side as if she had been about to pick it up to place over his, but she cancelled the order at the last millisecond.

She took a steadying breath to reset herself.

Then, she began, “For so long, I resented the role that I was forced into when my mother died. I hated that I took care of people because I had to. I never felt like I was allowed to do anything other than what was expected of me. More than that, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to ask anything in return.

But you did the exact opposite. You never asked anything from me. You put yourself at my mercy. You helped me. And you didn’t expect anything from me in return. You let me drive everything.

You took care of me in a way that no one has before. And that made me realize, I like being taken care of. You took care of me in a way that I didn’t know a person could be taken care of. You stepped up when I needed you. You had my back. You fought with me, held me when I cried.” Her voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. “You were willing to die for me.”

At this, Zuko caved just a little. He could still feel the unadulterated horror of the instant when he realized that Katara was in mortal danger. His heart clenched painfully, mostly in memory of the fear. But it also stuttered a few beats in memory of the arrythmia-inducing injury he had sustained. He made no conscious decision to do so, but when he looked down, he found his fingers laced with hers. She looked at him, eyes equally hopeful and questioning. He sighed and began to trace idle patterns into her palm with his thumb, beckoning her to continue and reassuring her that he would not let go.

“You also stepped back when I needed you to. You let me make my own decisions. You stood by me, not to guide me but to support me in trusting my own decisions. You respected me.”

Katara looked over at him then, expectantly. Zuko did nothing more than shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. How could he have done anything else?

Katara shook her head slowly at him and laughed weakly before she continued, “I never really let anyone in. I always kept people at arm’s distance because I thought that I didn’t need anyone to take care of me. I didn’t _want_ anyone to take care of me for the longest time. It took me way too long to realize this, but I was wrong; I need other people. But, more importantly, I need _you_.”

His hand stilled against hers.

“I think that’s why it hurt so bad when you stopped writing. I felt like I lost my best friend. I felt like I lost the one person who really saw me. And I thought that it was because you didn’t want me anymore. As a friend or as a….whatever we were. I missed everything about you. The way you talk. The way it felt when you’d hold me. The way you smell. But most of all, I missed the way you saw me. You’ve always understood me better than anyone else.

  
That’s why it hurt so badly to lose you. I felt like I lost the one person who finally accepted me, wholly and unconditionally. I was so lost without you.

And now? Now, I miss you so badly it hurts. My entire body aches whenever I think of you. You’re sitting right here, holding my hand and I still feel like I’m about to explode.”

Zuko tried to stifle his laugh. He really tried. On any other day, he might have been able to. But today, he felt like he was drowning and Katara felt like she was going to explode. The irony of it was too much. He snickered. She responded by digging her nails into his palm, a smile playing on the curve of her lips.

Despite the moment of levity, she was serious when she spoke again. “I know all of those reasons are selfish. I didn’t back then, but I do now. You did all of those things for me without any regard for yourself. So, I want to tell you something and it doesn’t matter what you say, just that you hear it.”

She turned to face him fully and tugged at him to do the same. She brought their entwined hands to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to each of his fingers before returning his hand to him. She sat straight and met his eyes. That assuredness was back in her blue eyes. Her posture was open, confident and humble at once. Her voice was steady as she spoke.

“I need you. And I want you. I have for so long. It just took me too long to realize it. And I hurt you in the process. I hurt myself in the process. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. I am so sorry for the pain that I caused you. I am so sorry for being selfish and for not thinking enough of how my decisions would affect you.

I forgave you long ago for the things you did to me. But I know that I need to ask your forgiveness. I hope you give it to me. I ask that of you, Zuko. But the rest is up to you.

I want you to do more than forgive me. I want you to feel about me the way I feel about you. But I won’t ask that of you. I just need you to know what I want. The rest is up to you. I want you to be happy. Whether that’s with me or not, it’ll be enough for me that you’re happy.”

He was silent for a long time.

_‘I need you.’_ An echo from a lifetime ago.

For a moment, he let himself live in a world where magic was real – where love was enough. Where water could soothe all wounds, even the ones that had cut through his flesh and soul. Where he could feel whole again. ‘ _Something important_ ’ he repeated and hoped against hope that he could be something important.

To her.

The prisoner in his heart rattled its chains. _‘Let me be free.’_

“Zuko, did you hear me?”

“Yes,” he said after a moment.

“Will you tell me what you’re thinking?”

_What else is there to do but be honest? With myself. With her. And what will be, will be._

So comes love.

“I was thinking of the day we met.”

“At the South Pole? Why are you thinking of that?”

“No, Agni, no. Not that day,” Zuko cringed at the memory. “I meant the day that we actually met. In Ba Sing Se.”

“Oh. I see. What about it?”

“You said before that I was the only person who really ‘saw’ you. You did that for me too. Back in Ba Sing Se.”

“When I was yelling at you?”

“No,” he laughed a little. “After that. When you offered to try to heal me. You treated me like I was worth something. Even after all the horrible things I did to you.”

“You were worth something. You _are_ worth something. So much more than something. You’re—”

“Katara,” Zuko put a hand up to stop her. “Stop interrupting me.”

She snapped her mouth shut after mumbling a quiet “sorry.”

“You made me feel something that day. You made me feel like it was possible for me to be important to someone. It was new to me and even though I liked it, I didn’t know how to deal with it. We both know how that day turned out.

But you planted the idea in my head. And the more time went by, the more I came to realize that you were right. I’ve always been worth something. I was just surrounded by people who didn’t want me to feel that way.

So, I cut those people out of my life. And I tried to get back some of the people who had always treated me like I was worth something. Like you and Aang. And my uncle. And all of you forgave me. Because you thought I deserved another chance.

And then, we got…” he gestured between them “..close. And I started to think that maybe I was important to you. That maybe I was important to you as you were to me.

But then you left. And I’ve told you a hundred times before, but I’ll tell you again: I don’t begrudge you that. I always want you to make your own choices and live your life for you. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to go; it just hurt how easy it seemed for you to do it. I felt like I was cracking in half. And I wanted to tell you, but you didn’t let me.

I felt like a fool. I was hurt and angry. I didn’t understand how you could do that. Especially after everything we went through. So, I regressed a little bit on my progress.”

At some point, Zuko had dropped his head to stare at the floor. Re-living these feelings was painful enough. He couldn’t bear to look into Katara’s eyes as he did it. He didn’t know if he’d ever recover.

Gaze fixed on the wooden floorboards of the pergola, he heard Katara give a small gasp. His insides twisted a little, but he didn’t look up. He continued, “I had to make it make sense in my head somehow. So, I figured that you knew what you were doing and that you must have been right and I was wrong. I tried to prioritize your happiness. I didn’t want you thinking of me. I tried to be happy for you, even though I was so hurt. But when you mentioned that guy you met, it was too much for me.

And then I had years to think about it. And I still couldn’t make sense of it. But, I tried to make peace with it. I tried to tell myself if you were happy, nothing else mattered to me. Maybe I never deserved you in the first place and this was just the way the universe meant for us to turn out.”

“Zuko…”

He raised his head and found her face a mix of agony and regret. “Hush,” he said, kindly but firmly. “When we met again in Ba Sing Se a few weeks ago, I was resigned to that idea. I was happy to be near you again, but I didn’t want go through all that pain again. But, apparently the universe had other ideas for us. I didn’t read the other side of your note at first. That’s why I left in a hurry.”

“Oh, Zuko.”

“I thought that you were confirming everything that I’d been telling myself for all those years. Anyway, I figured it out a minute later when I read the other side. I looked for you, but…well. You know how that turned out too.”

Katara struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. She wanted to collapse beneath the burden of her mistakes. But she wouldn’t. She would sit here and listen. She would hear whatever he had to say to her. If he wanted to curse her for all the pain she’d caused him, she’d gladly take it. If he wanted to yell at her for all of the anger he had felt because of her, she’d welcome it. She’d do anything.

“And now we’re here,” he said.

Anxiety crept up Katara’s spine. His recounting of their past had reached their present and there wasn’t anything more to tell. No new revelations to be made. He’d explained his side and as bad as Katara had felt before, it had been nothing compared to the remorse she now felt for the pain she had caused this man. This man that she had told herself that she loved. How could she do something like this to someone she supposedly loved?

She’d do anything for him. Any tiny thing to right the mountain of wrongs that she had done him. Including letting him walk away right now if that’s what he wanted. She knew she had no right to ask anything of him. No right to beg him to stay. But she hoped against hope that he would.

The universe answered her prayer. Zuko made no movement to get up. Instead he spoke again, “I’ve changed a lot since we first met. You helped me realize that I’ve always been worthy, Katara. I deserve happiness just as much as you do. And you didn’t treat me that way.”

His eyes were unreadable. That or Katara was too panicked to focus on anything. She felt like she was going to throw up.

“But,” he said. Katara stopped spiraling for an instant. “You’re worthy too. You deserve the same thing that you gave me.”

_A broken heart? A ruined sense of self-esteem? Spirits above, end my suffering now. I thought I was strong enough for this but I’m not. I can’t take this._

“Forgiveness.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara knew no words. That had to be it. She’d forgotten every single word that she had ever learned. Because every time she tried to speak, her tongue fumbled dumbly in her mouth and her throat choked on sound.

All she could do was scream in the chamber of her own mind as she watched Zuko rise up to his knees and tower over her.

“Now, remind me,” she heard him say, “what was it you said you’d do for me to forgive you?”

_Speak, idiot! Speak!_

He offered his hand to pull her up to her knees, leveling their heights. His eyes were soft, a mellow glowing gold. He brought one hand to cup her face and rested the other against the small of her back.

She remembered one word. It was all she could do to whisper, “Anything.”

“Then,” he said, tipping her chin up, “I want my anything.”

He brushed his thumb lightly over her trembling bottom lip before curling his fingers under her jaw to gently pull her to him.

His lips met hers in a tender kiss, soft and warm. Katara couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped her, the sound made of anguish turned relief. He kissed it away, his lips becoming more insistent against hers until she melted into him. He licked lightly at her and she dared to meet him. She felt a shock go through her entire body when her tongue grazed his. “Shhh…” Zuko whispered against her lips. “I’ve got you.”

_Yes,_ she thought.

_Yes, you do._

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I'M EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTED. THAT WAS A LOT OF FEELINGS.
> 
> but there. all done. no more feelings ever again. we got everything out. everyone take a deep breath. feel better now?
> 
> no? 
> 
> why not?
> 
> oh we still have four, three, two and one. 😉
> 
> no jk. i really am as tired as y'all from all that angst.
> 
> ANYWHOOSIES! 
> 
> "WAIT WHAT?" -y'all probably because I promised our E rating
> 
> IT'S COMING I'M SORRY I HAD TO SPLIT IT UP. (and i wanted this feelings-fest to stand on its own. i didn't originally plan on them having THIS MUCH to say. that's why i thought we'd get to the good stuff in this chapter. ahhhh alas...)
> 
> Real notes:  
> \- the callback to every time that they've come to each other to talk. in eight, zuko comes to katara and she waves her hand "permitting him." in seven, when he comes to her at the caldera's edge, she is "inviting him." here, in five, he is "welcoming her." it's a progression. who does the action is not the point. the point is the development in how they interact with each other.
> 
> \- hella parallels to ten and eight. pretty sure these are obvious. things like "something important" (from ten). and of course, "i want my anything" (from eight). the "shhh..." reassurance. they do this a lot. it's very soft and i love it. ack my heart.
> 
> \- very soft feelings. they're being real. both of these characters can be stubborn and hot-headed. but both of these characters are, at their core, gentle souls. they've done the fighting and the yelling. now it's time to dig deep and to show each other EVERYTHING. they each put themselves in a vulnerable place because they trust the other. that's what came out of me reading that rupi kaur poem. to be soft is to be powerful. strength doesn't come from stoicism. it comes from honesty. only one who is comfortable with who they are is able to open themselves to others. if you're soft, it is not because you are weak. it is, in fact, because you are strong enough to allow yourself to be soft.
> 
> \- the "I've got you" has a lot of different meanings. it can be taken literally -- "i've got you; i won't let you fall." it can be taken to mean "i understand you." it can be taken to mean "i finally have you again." katara agrees to all of these meanings.
> 
> \- zuko is really in control of the majority of this encounter. it's nice for him to finally have some control. we've seen him being passive for a long time. now the ball is in his court. and this is what he does with it. he's forgiving. i think this really speaks to zuko's character. he doesn't deny that what katara did was wrong. rather, he acknowledges it and the effect that her actions had on him. but, once he has done that, he doesn't dwell on it. he doesn't feel that he needs to. he's grown a lot. he's had a long time to come to terms with his trauma and how it has affected his view of the world. but, he has realized that the things that happened to him were not a result of some deficit on his part. he understands that what happened to him was not his fault. he knows he's worthy of love. that's a hard concept for an abuse victim because they've been told and shown the exact opposite for so long that it's been engrained into them. (in zuko's case, burned into him, literally.) but, he has some amazing development that we see in the show when he goes to confront ozai and he says "all i wanted was for you to love me" which he follows by saying of ozai's abuse, "it was cruel and it was wrong." zuko has realized that the way he was treated was wrong. when we leave him in the show, i think he is still growing into the idea that he is worthy of love. he's definitely got the first half of this idea -- he knows he doesn't deserve to be abused. but knowing that you don't deserve to be abused and knowing that you're worthy of love are two different things. they're in the same line of thinking, but the former is a stepping stone to the latter. when we leave zuko in the show, he's working on understanding the latter point. so, this fic shows that extension of thinking. he's grown into the idea that he is worthy of love. hence, what he says here. GROWTH. ❤️
> 
> Drop me a line. Let me know what you think. I love reading your comments. They really make my day.
> 
> ❤️❤️❤️


	10. [interlude]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is rated E for explicit.  
> Enjoy, mis queridas. ❤️

* * *

* * *

_I burned so long,  
_ _So quiet,  
_ _You must have wondered if I loved you back._

 _I did,  
_ _I did,  
_ _I do._

_-annelyse gelman_

* * *

* * *

Katara came back to herself in pieces. First came an understanding of her position on her back, Zuko flush against her. They had tumbled to the floor. Second came a sense of warmth and a glowing heat in her belly. Zuko’s mouth was hot against hers, tenderness having given way to something hungrier. His hands were splayed across her back, warm and strong, pressing her to him and perhaps the only thing tying her to the earth at this moment. Third came the tickle of his scent in her nose, slowly replacing the air in her lungs. She remained fixed against him, unwilling to surrender even an inch. She didn’t care if his was the only air she’d ever breathe again. That might actually be preferable. Fourth came an awareness of the way he had wrapped his arms completely around her. Gone was his guardedness, his formality. In their place she found the man in her arms matching her every desperate move, just as unwilling to relinquish the moment as she was. Fifth came the fleeting sight of him between kisses, a tiny smile on his swollen, reddened lips and an unhidden desire in his eyes.

And finally came the inconsolable need for more. More of this. More of him. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

Zuko relished the feeling of Katara’s fingers tangling in his hair, the way she clung to him, the way she whimpered slightly when he pulled away for even a fraction of a second. But, if she was a mess of need, he was a disaster. He squeezed his arms around her, desperate for more. More of her. More of her little noises. More, more, more.

“What do you want?” she finally managed to ask.

“What can I have?” his response was immediate.

“Anything.”

“Anything?” he questioned, pulling back to look at her.

“Everything,” she said. The smile that graced her lips was dazzling. Confident and beautiful. The look in her eyes was warm and inviting, though there was mischief brewing beneath the surface. It was one that Zuko decided he would need to see again. And again. And again.

“Tonight,” he said, leaning down again to kiss along her jaw. He nibbled lightly at her earlobe and he took Katara’s sharp inhale as agreement.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Katara tried to tame the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she strode down the corridor that night. She’d spent an amicable afternoon with Aang, who smiled knowingly the moment he saw her. Zuko had disappeared after they’d parted ways in the garden. He’d given her a soft kiss and said something about “seeing to a few things.”

She stole into Zuko’s office for a moment, expecting to rescue him from drowning in paperwork. But he wasn’t there. She looked over his desk and found his papers with their still-wet ink winking in the low firelight. And the firelight, she realized as she traced the light to its source, came from the glowing shadow lamp.

She smiled as she picked it up carefully and carried it down the hall, holding her hand in front of the small flame. Her heart leapt in her throat when it flickered almost to the point of going out, but it recovered and burned steadily again with her protection. She received the tiniest of smiles from the guard posted outside Zuko’s chambers as he opened the door for her.

Again, she expected to find Zuko, but the room was empty. Well, it was far from empty. But it was empty of the one thing that she cared about seeing right now.

She set the shadow lamp delicately on a bedside table next to a stack of books. She idly picked up the top book and read its title, “ _History and Customs of the Water Tribes_ ”.

Her heart swelled with affection as she sat on the bed and laid the book across her lap. It fell open to a page which Katara saw had been underlined and annotated in Zuko’s script. She read,

_When they turn fourteen, Southern Water Tribe children are taken on a rite of passage known as ice dodging, a sport where the children must control a ship in turbulent water riddled with large, haphazard chunks of ice. After completing the ritual, they are given marks of honor: the Mark of the Brave, the Mark of the Wise, and the Mark of the Trusted._

Next to this passage, he had written a “K” with a question mark after it. She laughed at his silent question and made a mental note to tell him the story of Sokka’s ice dodging. She read on,

_In the Northern Water Tribe, women are of marrying age at the age of sixteen. Males who wish to marry females gift them with a traditional betrothal necklace. This signifies that the woman is to be married. The ceremony is completely organized by the parents, and marriage of free choice is not practiced. However, in the Southern Water Tribe, people are allowed to choose their own spouses._

Katara smiled at his underline.

_The names of the Southern and Northern Tribes' citizens often include one or two "K"s and have an "AH" sound._

In the margin, Zuko had doodled a few names with double “K”s and “AH” sounds. They were names that would sound foreign to Katara’s ears, but they followed the rule. She flipped through a few more pages and found another passage that Zuko had marked.

_The national emblem of the Water Tribe is a circle comprised of a waning crescent moon and three wavy horizontal lines representing ocean water. The emblem represents the relationship between Tui and La, the Moon and Ocean Spirits, who exist in perfect harmony with one another, like Yin and Yang. The Water Tribes' belief in peaceful cooperation between nations stems from the relationship between these two spirits, and this ideal is further exemplified on the insignia. It is displayed on the pennant of the watchtower…_

She was so engrossed in her reading and in trying to figure out why he had underlined those lines in particular that she hadn’t noticed the real Zuko standing near the door. He spoke her name softly in an effort not to startle her, but she jumped, nonetheless.

“Spirits! How long have you been standing there?”

He chuckled. “Only a minute.” He crossed the room to her, undoing the sash that held his outer robe closed and tossing it aside as he went. “Did you know that you mouth the words when you read?”

Katara blushed. Not at the sight of him shrugging out of his robe, leaving him only in a thin shirt that barely concealed the tone of his muscles beneath it. Not at the fact of what he had pointed out, but at how closely he must have been studying her to notice that.

“I didn’t. No one’s ever pointed that out before.”

He hummed. “Maybe no one’s ever noticed.”

“What else have you noticed about me?” she asked, placing the book down and stepping toward him.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” he said and pulled her into his embrace.

They stood there for a moment, silent and unmoving, content just to be together.

“I’ve missed you,” Zuko sighed into her hair.

Something wandered its way through Katara’s heart. Not quite pain, but perhaps its echo. It had no barbed edges, no bite. She could recall the feeling of pain but could not recreate it. It was familiar, but no longer fitting. No longer right.

She planted herself, sure and steady. Nervous but ready.

“I’ve missed you too. We’ve been apart for so long. And yet...” Katara pulled back and reached for his hand. “You’ve always been with me.” She guided his hand to her chest and placed it flat between her breasts. “You’re in here.”

He let out a shuddering breath.

“You’ve been with me the entire time,” she trailed her hands in swirling patterns along his arms and walked him backward toward the bed. “Everywhere I went. I couldn’t get rid of you.” She pushed him gently backward onto the bed. “But no matter how much time passed or how much distance separated us, you were always right there. Branded into my heart. Burning me up from the inside out,” she said as she dropped herself into his lap.

“I burned so long. So quiet. You must have wondered if I loved you back,” she said.

Sitting in his lap, her knees straddling his hips, she tapped one finger beneath his chin. Zuko tipped his head up. She leaned down to meet him but stopped an inch before she met his lips. “I did,” she breathed.

She curled her body around his and buried her head against his neck. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in sync. After a moment, she whispered against his ear, “I do.”

She felt a slight tug on her hair, and she pulled back to look at him.

His eyes were molten gold. “Say it.”

“I love you.”

Zuko wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a scorching kiss.

She carded her hands through his hair and pulled at the ribbon holding his top knot. She scratched at his scalp lightly with her nails which only made Zuko’s kisses grow more demanding.

He placed a hand against the small of her back and pushed their hips together. She ground against him and was encouraged by the unrestrained moan that escaped him.

“Did you imagine this?” she asked, circling her hips and smirking at his reaction.

“I imagined everything.” He flashed a smile at her. That was her only warning before she felt two hands at the back of her thighs, lifting and spinning her until she was flat on her back.

Zuko was on her in an instant. He clawed at the knot of her sash and pushed her robe aside. He used his teeth to drag her shirt up her stomach, kissing every inch of skin as it revealed itself.

“Want to see all of you,” he said between kisses. She held her breath as he hooked a finger under the waistband of her leggings. He paused. “This okay?” His eyes were smoldering as they met hers and she wondered what she’d have to do to see them burn.

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

She lifted her hips as he slid her leggings off. He pawed at the edge of her wrappings, searching for the end that would unravel the entire thing. Katara giggled at his little frustrated grumble and tugged on the ends of the cloth strips that held her bindings together. He helped her out of them. “Helped” might be too generous of a term. He all but ripped them off her before returning to reclaim her lips.

“You too,” she complained when he let her up for air. She tugged his shirt over his head and let her hands roam over his chest. She’d fantasized endlessly about this, using her memory of their teenage trysts to imagine what it would be like to do exactly this with him.

The memories paled in comparison to the man before her now: taller, broader, and somehow warmer than the last time she had held him. She pulled him on top of her, needing to know how else her fantasies had fallen short.

She tightened her arms around him, reveling in the sensation of being skin-to-skin, chest-to-chest. She kissed below his jaw and felt his pulse beneath her lips (and the quickening of his pulse when she rolled her hips against the hardness currently pressed into her thigh.)

She whined when he moved out of her reach. He began placing a line of kisses from her neck to her navel.

“Come back here.” She meant for it to sound more authoritative, but it came out a desperate gasp.

“You don’t want me down here?” he asked, pushing her legs apart with a kiss on the inside of each thigh. Katara knew that taunting tone. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it. Even so, she wasn’t sure what he was hoping to accomplish—

Her brain short-circuited when he put his mouth on her and parted her lips with his tongue to take a long taste of her.

_Fuck._

_Fuck._

_Fuckkkkkkkkk._

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed against the sheets, giving up any pretense of protestation. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the various ways that people could be…intimate. But this particular way wasn’t one that she’d had any experience with. She’d read about it plenty and heard whispers and giggles of it among circles of women. Tori had offered many times, but she’d never understood the need for it, much less the desire for it.

But now?

Now it had instantly become something that she had an insurmountable need for. An overwhelming carnal desire that Zuko was doing damn well at satisfying.

She managed to catch a glimpse of his head between her thighs and the sight did _something_ to her. His black hair was messy and only getting messier as she squeezed her legs around his head when a particular swipe of his tongue struck her in just the right spot.

His tongue worked on her relentlessly in long, languid strokes with the occasional flick and tease of her clit. She twisted in pleasure which only earned her a pair of hands on her hips, pinning her in place and silently commanding her to submit to his ministrations.

If he wouldn’t let her writhe, she needed something to hold on to. She tangled her hands in his hair. He seemed pleased by this and he rewarded her with fervent attention on that sweet, swollen spot. He lapped at her and hummed in approval at her gasps. The combination overwhelmed her, pushed her right to the edge, and she tightened a fist in his hair. He flicked the tip of his tongue against her and held her down as a wave of pleasure crashed over her and rippled through her body, leaving her trembling.

Pressing a reverent kiss to her thigh, he pulled back and looked up at her from across the planes of her stomach and the mounds of her breasts.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Breathless and quite unable to form words at the moment, she simply shook her head and pulled him back to her, tasting a new sweet and salty tang on his lips. He nipped at her bottom lip lightly before soothing it with little strokes of his tongue. She sighed into his mouth and groped at his pants, chastising him as if to say, _why the fuck are these still on?_

Zuko took the hint and pulled them off. He settled himself between her legs, propping himself up above her with a hand on either side of her head.

She felt the tip of him brush against her and she raised her hips to meet him, inadvertently drawing him in slightly and tickling her clit with the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, long and drawn out.

He had a dozen other words in his vocabulary that could describe a pleasant sensation. But there was no other word that captured the pleasure of feeling her, hot and wet and so inviting. The anticipation of more. The relief at finally, _finally_ having her. The head-spinning high that he felt when she spasmed slightly as he pushed the head of his cock against her clit. No, there was no other word capable of capturing this moment.

He nudged at her entrance.

“Is this what you want?”

Katara was lost to the sensation of him. Her entire body tingled from that single brush. She wanted more. Needed so much more. So, when he asked, ‘is this what you want?’ Katara wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or asking in earnest. Maybe a little of both.

“I want you, Zuko. All of you.”

He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “I love you.”

She crossed her ankles behind his back and pulled him to her while he slowly pushed into her. They were joined, inch by inch and every inch better than the last until he was buried completely within her.

“Yes. Yes. Yessss,” Katara breathed. The first was an affirmation. Yes, I want this. I’ve wanted this for so long. The second was a thank you to the spirits, gods, or whatever karmic force that had brought them together. The third was a plea to never be without this again. To never be without him again.

He rolled his hips slowly and they moaned in unison.

The feeling of him inside her was perfect. It was so right. The pleasure of it came not only from the way he fit inside her like a missing piece but from the swell of love in her heart at finally, _finally_ having him in body, mind, and soul.

They fell into a steady rhythm, foreheads pressed together, and fingers still intertwined. He murmured little praises under his breath when she would rock up into him and little curses when she would nip at whatever part of him she could reach. She shimmied her hips and let out a most unholy moan when he hit a sweet spot deep within her. His breath hitched as she clenched around him.

Katara drank in the sight of him, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw slack with pleasure. His black hair was mussed and plastered to his temples. She was pleased that he looked just as wrecked as she felt.

“Zuko, I—” she said, desperation tinging her voice as she strained beneath him, needing more.

“Yeah, I got you,” he said, reaching for a pillow and shoving it under her hips. It angled her just so, so that every single thrust sent sparks up her spine. She cried out as he picked up his pace, the coiling heat in her belly nearly ready to explode.

He brought a hand between them and used a fingertip to draw circles on her clit in sync with his thrusts. She was quickly unraveling, tipping over that edge, the heat in her belly raging into a wildfire that singed through her veins.

“Come for me, beauty. Come on, I’ve got you.” He pressed down with his finger and thrust into her hard and fast, and she was gone. He followed a few seconds later, adding his own cries of agonized pleasure to the symphony she had started.

He collapsed against her and stole the breath from her lungs. But, then again, you can’t really steal what is freely given. And Katara would gladly give him every breath she had for the rest of her life as long as she got to spend that life with him.

Her world once again became divided into _before_ and _after_. What had been hours ago, unknown, all of the sudden seemed unfair to withhold. What had before been only fantasies that burned behind her eyes were now realities that had been seared into her soul. She would sooner die than go without ever knowing the gentle grip of his hands on her hips or the sweet sound of his whispered “I love you,” again.

Katara turned on her side, her legs still entangled with Zuko’s. She felt the rise and fall of his chest against her back and drew his arms around her. She watched the shadow candle as it threw light against the wall and realized after a moment that its waves ebbed and flowed in time with Zuko’s breath. She traced her fingers along the pattern of crashing waves on the wall and schooled her breathing into the same rhythm. “Keep this lit,” she said after a moment, eyes still trained on the dancing shadow.

“From now on,” he promised.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time: I’ve never written a sex scene before. How’d I do?  
> The shadow lamp strikes again!


	11. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.
> 
> bye.

* * *

* * *

_and the  
_ _bravest of  
_ _souls are  
_ _those who  
_ _choose love.  
_ _over and over._

_-e. corona_

* * *

* * *

**Three months later**

Katara and Zuko fell into an easy daily routine. They had their rituals. Getting ready in the morning –

Zuko sat in front of a vanity and Katara stood behind him, combing his hair. He leaned into her touch and hummed appreciatively.

“What is on your schedule today?” Katara asked as she tied a ribbon around his top knot.

Zuko rolled his eyes at the thought. “Reading through a dozen governor’s reports to prepare for the upcoming fiscal planning conference.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

“Feel free to offer something more thrilling,” he smiled at her, meeting her eyes in the mirror’s reflection.

She smacked him half-heartedly as he chuckled. She pinned the crown in his hair and leaned down to whisper, “Actually, my love,” she nibbled at his ear. “According to my recollection of last night, I believe it’s your turn to offer _me_ something.”

“Gladly,” he said whirling around to scoop her up in his arms. She squealed as he threw her on the bed.

(The reports did not get read that day.)

\-------

Lunch if they happened to be in the same place at the same time –

“Hello beauty,” he greeted her with a hug. “How was your excursion this morning?”

“Informative. Have you been out to those villages before?”

“Not recently. Maybe several years ago. What is your opinion?”

“I can help,” she said, smiling as she took a bite of rice.

“I’m sure you can,” pride readily apparent in his tone.

\-------

Dinner in the evening. Even if Katara had to drag an excuse sputtering Zuko out of his office. “Just ten more minutes! I’m almost done!” She’d shake her head and haul him up, pulling him by the hand. If she felt him conjure a little spark that threatened to break their grasp, she’d coat his hand in water and splash a little in his face for his insolence.

Dinner every evening. Even if Zuko had to track Katara down wherever she was and throw her over his shoulder, kicking and screaming. “Put me down!!! Just give me until dark!” He’d set her down once they got to the table, pushing her into her seat with one hand on the small of her back and the other giving her ass a little squeeze for good measure.

They never missed dinner together.

*_*_*_*_*

Katara sat in her office, perusing through the stack of documents and letters on her desk. Zuko was in meetings all afternoon and Katara took the time to catch up on the letters that had piled up. He had given her an office across the hall from his own. It overlooked the garden and she kept the windows open most of the time to let the sound of the babbling stream in. She welcomed the peace.

She had spent much of the past three months reading and researching, utilizing the royal library to its fullest extent. She educated herself on Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation history and on Air Nomad philosophy. She read and re-read the few books on the Water Tribes and found tiny markings in every one of them, though they weren’t as obvious as those in the book on Zuko’s bedside table.

Her eyes roamed over the continued correspondence from her contacts in the Earth Kingdom, still looking to her to direct their efforts even though she had written them time and time again that Tori was in charge. She sighed and opened a letter that she recognized in the hand of the provincial governor in the Western Earth Kingdom.

_Master Katara,_

_Despite your faith and endorsement of the young man, your replacement is not effective in your position. We humbly beseech you to reconsider your retirement. Or at least to reconsider your choice of replacement. Moreover, we are given to understand that our funding has ceased. We understand that you have a close relationship with the Fire Lord and we respectfully inquire if you had any knowledge of this decision and if you can influence a reversal of this decision._

_We await your response to this matter. People are suffering, Master Katara. Your prompt attention is humbly requested._

_Yours,_

_Governor Qui_

Horror blossomed in her chest as she tried to process the information. Why are people suffering? Why had funding stopped? It had been steady for years. Why now? A hundred questions swirled in her mind as she tore open the next letter without checking to see who it was from.

_Katara,_

_Of course it was Zuko. My “king.” I knew it._

_Can you please keep your legs closed long enough to let him sign my proposals? I’ve sent three and I haven’t gotten a response to any of them. Or forge his signature. I don’t care. But we need the money. Now. Last week. Last month._

_People are starting to talk. They’re disappointed in us. In you, mostly. Everyone knows you’re there with him and they can’t understand why you would stand idly by while we suffer._

_Fix it._

_-Tori_

She retched. At his tone. At his vulgarity. At the possibility of it being true. How could she not have known? Had she been so negligent?

Katara crumpled Tori’s letter in her hands and wished for perhaps the first time in her life that she were a Firebender so that she could destroy it on the spot. Instead she balled it up and threw it into the fireplace before storming across the hall to Zuko’s empty office. She rifled through the pile of documents on his desk. She stopped when she found Tori’s seal, a pointed T encompassed by a pair of wings pressed into wine-colored wax. She felt sick as she gathered the documents and stormed down the hall to the one person who could answer her questions.

“Do you know anything about this?” she said, bursting into the council chambers.

Ten heads snapped up at her entrance. Confusion and anger clouded the faces of Zuko’s councilors. At the head of the table, Zuko raised a brow but otherwise kept his expression neutral.

“Hello Katara,” Zuko said, tracking her with his eyes as she crossed the large room.

“Hi,” she huffed. She ignored the outraged look on the councilors faces as she blew past them to slap the governor’s letter in front of Zuko.

“This,” she said, pointing to the line in the governor’s letter about funding. “Do you know anything about this?”

The councilors coughed uncomfortably or cleared their throats in the thick silence of the room as Zuko read over the letter. He flashed her a look before he spoke. It was too quick. She didn’t understand what it meant.

“What would you like _us_ ,” he gestured around the table to his council “to do, Katara?” The look was back. She still didn’t understand it and it was beginning to make her blood boil.

Anger threatened to erupt from within her. There was no way he didn’t know. The proof was right there. The broken seals were evidence of his knowledge.

“Apparently _you_ have been ignoring these proposals. Tori has been sending funding requests for the past three months and he hasn’t heard anything back. _You_ are responsible for approving these,” she said, dropping Tori’s proposals into his lap with more force than necessary. “It comes from _your_ treasury, so it needs _your_ signature.”

Murmurs circulated among the councilors. “Tori?” “What funding?” “The Earth Kingdom projects?”

“Katara, I think we should discuss this privately,” he cautioned. He kept his tone level but Katara could pick up on the frayed edge to his voice.

“Why?!” she challenged. “It’s a matter of international policy. There’s nothing less private than that!”

Zuko opened his mouth to speak but a voice came from down the table, “Sir, please tell us this isn’t about those silly little vanity projects.”

Katara’s eyes grew wide with shock and offense. The councilor met her gaze, quieting her indignation with the intensity of his stare. “Master Katara, the people of this country are forever grateful to you for what you did during the war. For training the Avatar. For defeating the Princess Azula. For saving the life of our Fire Lord,” he said.

“Thus, as an act of respect toward you, we indulged your requests at first and continued to do so for several years. We thought you would tire yourself out. But these projects of yours were a waste of our money. The Fire Nation pays its fair share of war reparations to the other nations, including the Earth Kingdom. There is no need and no justification for additional financial support. That money is much better spent on the needs of our own citizens, not piddled away to some Earth Kingdom country peasants.”

Katara glanced to Zuko and expected to find him as outraged as she was, perhaps fuming the way he did when his temper boiled just below the surface. Instead she found him with his head in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Piddled away,” she repeated darkly. “Do you have any concept of what my work entailed? Do you have any idea what I have done for international peace? For those peasants, yes. But for your precious citizens too.”

“As I said, we are grateful to you. But we will decide what is in the best interests of our citizens. And we will do so by keeping their hard-earned money here at home where it belongs. That is why we have been denying your requests for years.”

“Years?!” She spun to face Zuko, to demand he correct what she knew to not be true. He made no motion to speak and Katara growled in frustration at his lack of immediate response. “You, sir,” she gritted, “are mistaken. You have been paying for my innovations for years and you will continue to do so.”

“We will not be dictated to by a foreigner, Master Katara. Do not confuse our gratitude to you in ending the war for privilege in steering our politics.” The councilor’s voice was low and laced with a warning. Katara would not heed it. She would not be condescended to.

“As if you should be so lucky! I haven’t attempted to influence a single thing since I arrived. Maybe I should have! I know more about the ‘best interests’ of your citizens by spending three months among them than you’ll ever know from your guilded tower!” she shouted.

“You could never hope to understand our culture, peasant,” he spat back.

Katara saw red. Red that quickly dissipated. The heat hit her a second later and she realized with horror that a well-targeted ribbon of fire had snaked its way across the table, incinerating everything in its path. Katara and the others jumped backward, staring dumbly at the black scorch marks that now scarred the tabletop. She traced their path back to their source.

Katara thought she had seen Zuko in every iteration of angry that she could imagine. There was his hot-headed temper that flared when they argued (though she knew that her own temper was only fuel on that fire.) There was his tortured past that she knew still ate away at his soul, despite how far he had come. There was his long-held resentment that still sent pangs of guilt through her no matter how many times he reassured her that he had forgiven her. There was his fierce protectiveness that he saved only for those closest to him. And there was his obsession with always trying to do the honorable thing and his lack of patience for anyone who tried to convince him otherwise.

But this?

This was an anger she had never seen before. And one she never cared to see again. He looked lethal. Poisonous. The fire raging in his eyes was the only thing that separated him from a statue. He was otherwise completely still, every muscle contracted and ready to snap but held in perfect control. When he spoke, he did so mechanically. His voice was low enough that every person in the room had to lean closer to hear him although their fear of him in this moment kept them at a distance.

“Your insult to Master Katara’s work and to Master Katara herself is inexcusable. You bring shame upon yourself, upon me, and upon your country. I advise each and every one of you to consider your words carefully before you speak in her presence again. I expect better of you. I demand better of you. You will not dishonor yourselves or me again,” he said. “Get out.”

They were scrambling to their feet when he spoke again.

“Oh, and councilor?” he asked, zeroing in on the man who had insulted Katara. “Do not confuse my mercy for weakness.”

The man swallowed thickly and nodded. He bowed as he left. The heavy double doors shut behind him with a resounding _thud_.

She waited for the echo to dissipate before she dared to even breathe.

“Fuck.” It was all she could think to say.

He stared straight ahead, still frighteningly still but at least no longer coiled like a viper about to strike.

“You should go, too,” he said when she started toward him.

“You can’t order me around.”

“I wasn’t,” he gave her a hard look. “It was a suggestion.”

“How’s this for a suggestion: tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He groaned and the sound was somewhere between disgusted and exhausted. “Can’t you just trust me?”

“I have no idea what you’re asking me to trust you on.”

“That’s why it’s called trust, Katara.”

She opened her mouth to protest but stopped when he turned toward her and the late afternoon light cut sharp angles across his face. There were shadows beneath his eye and fine lines digging their way into what should be his smooth twenty-three year old skin.

“Fine. Tell me one thing,”

“Fine,” he sighed, looking defeated.

“Why now?”

“Wha—”

“Why did you stop funding now?”

“It’s complicated…I had to move some money around.”

“Oh ‘complicated.’ Thank you for sparing me the ‘complicated’ details. I’m sure my little peasant brain wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Katara, you _know_ that isn’t what I meant.”

She scoffed. “The timing seems a little suspicious to me.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m just saying. I’ve been here for three months. They haven’t gotten money in three months. Might that be because it’s someone else asking for it?”

“Are you implying that I’d be jealous? Or that I’d be petty enough to withhold money because of your…history?” To Zuko’s credit, he kept his grimace to a nearly imperceptible degree. To anyone else, it would have looked like nothing more than a twitch of his brow and a diminutive frown. But Katara knew better.

“It adds up.”

“You should check your math.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” he said.

“The truth seems like your best option at this point.”

“I _am_ telling you the truth,” he gritted.

“All of it?”

“Katara,” he said carefully, and she watched some conflict play out behind his eyes. She didn’t know which side to root for or which side won when he said, “You have to trust me.” He turned from her and walked toward the door. “Well…” He paused with his hand on the handle. “I suppose you don’t have to. But I don’t know of many successful relationships that exist without trust.”

She was stunned into silence, staring after him as the heavy doors clamoured shut.

*_*_*_*_*

They never missed dinner together.

But that night found a lone figure at their table. Katara sat there and let her thoughts drift down the long, strange road that led her here to this exact moment. Sitting alone in the Fire Nation palace, completely out of her element both literally and figuratively. Waiting for the man that she had called so many things in her life. Enemy. Misunderstood. Traitor. Untrustworthy. Understanding. Selfless. Misjudged. Forgiven. Sacrificing. Best Friend. Trustworthy. Silent. Unreachable. Devoted. Forgiving. Loving. Loved. Home.

(In the time since her arrival, Katara had fallen asleep each night in the warmth of Zuko’s embrace, clinging to him as if she were afraid she would wake up in the morning and he’d be gone.

He never was.

He’d place a gentle kiss on her forehead at sunrise every morning and trace light patterns of flames and waves and flowers onto her skin until she woke up.

One morning he had lingered over the space between her shoulder blades and placed kisses in a haphazard pattern that Katara would only later realize followed the jagged line of a scar that now lay there.

“What’s this from?” he murmured against her skin.

“Accident,” she said, sleepily. She twined her fingers in his and brought their hands to rest over her heart.

He hummed and Katara knew he understood. Some things did not have to be spoken.)

Katara waited for an hour before she pushed back from the table, her food untouched. She held her head high despite the tears prickling at her eyes as she strode across the room.

She turned to a servant on her way out. “Keep his food warm for him, please.”

“Of course, Master Katara.”

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko traced his fingertip across the characters of Katara’s signature on the last letter she had ever sent him. Her flowing script was beautiful and even as he traced its lines and curves, he couldn’t quite match it.

_Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is._

_-Katara_

He pondered her words. He _had_ forgiven her. And it had been so healing. The last three months were the most blissful of his life. He reflected on their time together and let the emotions swell and crash over him – overwhelming relief, uncontainable love, unprecedented joy. But something else too. Something ugly and unwelcome — a paralyzing fear of losing her.

(He passed each night with Katara wrapped in his arms, holding her as if he needed the continuous contact to reassure himself that she was real.

She was. She’d push back against him in the middle of the night, tying herself up in him and whispering reassurances until his heartbeat slowed and he could sleep again.)

He breathed in the cool evening air and wondered if Katara was wondering about him at this moment. Probably. Definitely. It was dinnertime. He wondered if she had even bothered to show up or if she was doing the exact same thing he was.

_She sees right through me. She’s always been able to see me._

_She knows. Somehow, she knows. She always knows…_

_And if she doesn’t know yet, she will soon. And she’ll hate me for it._

*_*_*_*_*

Katara wiped her tears on her sleeve as she parsed through the library’s archives of official government documents, pulling budgets from the last five years. When she was satisfied with what she had found, she bundled them in her arms and carried them over to the desk that sat before a large window. She settled herself and unfurled the budget from Zuko’s first year as Fire Lord. She squinted in the low light of the dark room and looked through the window to the cloudy night sky above. She brought a candle closer as she began to read. She scanned through lines of dry details before she found what she was looking for: a line-item break down of expenditures.

**Domestic expenses**

Education…………………..………38,000,000

Healthcare………………...………60,000,000

Infrastructure…………….………75,000,000

Military…………..…………..…….25,000,000

National government…………35,000,000  
Refugee program……............20,000,000

Regional governments……....50,000,000

Royal household…………………..2,000,000

Social services…………….………90,000,000

**Foreign expenses**

War reparations….…………..500,000,000

Export tariffs………………….……5,000,000

She smiled at the additional lines of “social services” under domestic expenses and “war reparations” under foreign expenses. These were two budget items that (she knew from her reading) had not existed in previous years. They were a testament to Zuko’s commitment to a long-lasting peace. These unassuming lines of black ink on a page represented what had once seemed impossible. They had manifested themselves in reality through sheer force of will and countless hours of work. They were there, staring back at Katara in spite of all the people who thought that six kids couldn’t change the world. She beamed as she unfurled the scroll further in search the section that detailed the exact allocation of war reparations. She read:

Direct payment to Earth Kingdom………………..…………..250,000,000

Direct payment to Air Nomad rebuilding effort………..100,000,000

Direct payment to Southern Water Tribe………………….100,000,000

Direct payment to Northern Water Tribe………………..….45,000,000

Special projects in Earth Kingdom…………………….…..………5,000,000

**War reparations………………..………………….………………..500,000,000**

_There it is_ , she thought as she read the “special projects” line. She recalled what she had done with that money in her first year and thought of the regional center she had built.

She unrolled the budget for the next year and found it nearly identical. The third year looked very much the same, although the “special projects in the Earth Kingdom” line now read 3,000,000. She puzzled over this, trying to remember if she had been aware of any budget cuts. She couldn’t recall any. She read the budget for Zuko’s fourth year and furrowed her brows when she read 1,000,000 as the amount budgeted to her projects. That was a sizable decrease that she definitely would have noticed. But, she had felt no such thing. Confused, she unrolled the most recent year’s budget and read it at least ten times before she threw it down in frustration. There was no line for her projects in last year’s budget.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered to the stillness of the room. Her last project had cost at least four million and she hadn’t been shy about requesting the funds from Zuko. And he had given them to her. So why were they not listed in his budget?

She stood suddenly and returned to the bookshelf, in search of the many project proposals that she had sent over the years. She found them and all but ripped them open. On the first she found the word “APPROVED” stamped authoritatively across the top. Below that was Zuko’s signature and official seal.

His official seal was slightly different than his personal one. His official seal featured an ornate “Z” overlayed by the national insignia and surrounded by a dragon. His personal seal (the one that Katara was much more familiar with) was simpler. It was a simple but beautifully rendered “Z” surrounded by proud flames that radiated outward like rays of the sun.

A cool light filtered in from the window and illuminated the papers spread out before Katara. She lifted her head to see the clouds parting to reveal a half-moon, shining with more light than a half-moon should.

She ran through every one of her proposals and found the same constellation of official approval until—until she got to her more recent work. Beginning in her third year, she noticed that some were stamped with his official seal and some with his personal seal. The proposals of her fourth year were the same, though more bore his personal seal. By the time she got to the proposals of the most recent year, she only saw his personal seal.

_Oh._

_._

_._

_._

_His personal seal._

_._

_._

_._

_The missing official budget._

_._

_._

_._

_He funded it out of his own pocket when his council wouldn’t approve it anymore. It’s not in the budget because it was not officially authorized by the Fire Nation. It wasn’t an act of diplomacy between countries. It was a gesture from him to me._

Katara sat unmoving for a long while. Longer than she could count. She could imagine the progression. Zuko gladly signing her early proposals, explaining to his council the utility and importance of her projects. Zuko a year later, arguing with his advisors when they questioned why so much Fire Nation money was being sent out of the country when the country itself was struggling. Zuko another year later, having his authority and priorities questioned when people asked why he cared so much about the vanity projects of the Water Tribe peasant. Zuko in his anger at the insult, the insubordination. He wouldn’t stand for it. He was as hot-headed as she was. They were perfectly matched in their stubbornness.

And yet…

Katara’s stubbornness was the kind that raged and demanded immediate attention. Like fire, hot, insistent, and inescapable. Zuko’s was patient, quiet but persistent. Katara needed to know that she had won. Zuko was content to watch and wait. Katara burned her opinion into her opponents like a hot brand while Zuko carved his will into his opponents like flowing water reshaping a rock. And like water, he adapted. Changed his tactic until he found the right way.

She was startled out of her trance by a knock on the door. A servant approached and handed her a rolled-up letter.

“Apologies for the disturbance, Master Katara. This just arrived for you. It was marked as urgent.”

Taking the letter, she thanked the servant.

_Katara,_

_I don’t want to alarm you and I don’t know if you’re aware or not but there is some trouble in the Western Earth Kingdom. If you can, meet me there._

_Take care,_

_Aang_

She leapt up and let her legs carry her while her mind skipped in frantic paces. _Need to go. Fastest way to get there? What could be so important? Need to find Zuko. Where is he?_

The universe laughed at her internal monologue as she rounded a corner and slammed into Zuko who, by the force of their collision, had been rushing down the hall just as hurriedly.

“Zuko, we need to—”

“I know,” he said, showing her a piece of paper pinched between his fingers. “We leave in an hour. I need to speak to a few people. Get your things.” He was gone as abruptly as he had appeared, long robes swishing behind him.

“Zuko?” she called after him. He turned to look over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he said and kept walking.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rude, zuko. rude. 
> 
> Alright, let’s start at the top:  
> 1\. I can’t help myself with the push/pull thing. It’s everywhere. And it’s usually her doing the pulling and him doing the pushing. If they switch, it’s probably intentional. Speaking of intentional…
> 
> 2\. They mirror each other. They’re counterparts. Yet for as many things they do opposite of each other, they do a dozen more the same way. They learn from each other and learn how to do things differently because of their influence over the other. And in doing so they become much more well-rounded.
> 
> 3\. Each of them have some of the opposing element’s personality traits. This is something that I think is abundantly evident even in canon. What I wrote up there about their stubbornness is exactly how I see them in canon. I just carried that over here. Zuko is adaptable; his entire arc is about change. Katara is pretty hard-headed in most of the series; her arc is about getting closure and learning how to live with herself. Zuko likes to try to convince people of his point of view by working on them slowly. Katara likes to get it all out there at once. Neither is necessarily better than the other. They’re just different ways of going about things. 
> 
> Anyway, I think that’s a gorgeous parallel/contrast and I couldn’t help but bring it up here. Guh y’all, they’re just so fun to compare.
> 
> 4\. THE CRUX OF THIS CHAPTER:  
> So, we’ve established in the last chapter that they’ve forgiven each other. Both of them. And they love each other. Super duper! We’re all done, right? A clean slate + love = happy relationship. Right? Right???
> 
> Close.
> 
> But we’re missing a key ingredient. And that is trust. They had it at one point. Back at the final agni kai. But, for Zuko, he kind of lost faith in her when she left. For Katara, she has this suspicion that Zuko isn’t being completely honest with her and that’s pretty scary. To know that your partner is lying to you but you don’t know about what or why? It’ll drive ya mad.
> 
> He’s got this whole “I love you but idk if I trust you not to hurt me” thing going on.
> 
> She’s got this whole “I love you but idk how to trust you when I’m finding out that you’re not telling me everything” thing going on.
> 
> So, there’s our problem, folks. glhf, characters. Figure your shit out. Author is tired.
> 
> jk. I’ll take care of them. 
> 
> 5\. And finally, this chapter is about showing that love isn’t on or off. You can love someone a lot and be angry at them. It doesn’t mean you’re giving up on them. Things don’t have to always be happy-go-lucky and perfect for two people in love. It’s about the mistakes that we make and how we can learn from them. It’s about developing together. 
> 
> In any case, just because you’re angry at someone you love doesn’t mean you don’t love them anymore. You’re able to separate a situation that is upsetting you from your overall feelings toward the person. That’s what happened at the end here. They haven’t worked that out at all yet. But right now, there is something else demanding their attention, so they put aside their issues to focus on that. We don’t know what that something is and neither do they at this point. (Well, Zuko does, but he’s being rather tight-lipped about things, isn’t he?)
> 
> 6\. Oh and another thing. From the last chapter (and will be important in future chapters.) Sex =/= love. Just because they had sex doesn’t mean their relationship arc is complete. It’s just one element of their relationship. It was a very important part! But, it is not the ultimate defining moment of their relationship. I don’t think sex ever should be. Important? Fuck yeah! Anticipated? Oh yes please. A beautiful way to physically demonstrate a very complex emotion? Yep! Everything? Hell naw.
> 
> 7\. ALRIGHT, LAST THING:  
> Has anyone been noticing how the chapters have been getting longer the lower we go in the countdown? It feels kind of like when you go to sleep before surgery and the anesthesiologist tells you to count backward from ten. The farther you go, the farther apart each number seems. The closer we get to zero, the longer time stretches.  
> ~or~  
> It’s almost as if our characters don’t want this to end.  
> ~or~  
> It’s almost like we’re spiraling toward a black hole and time seems to stretch on and on. We’re nearing the point of infinite destiny – oops, I mean density. ;)


	12. Four, more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *joins the crowd chanting* SCREW TORI! SCREW TORI! I’m with ya babes. He is...not very nice. But like so many others in this story, there may be more to him than meets the eye. Is that an excuse? Nope.
> 
> We start this chapter by going back in time just a little bit. We join Zuko and get the last half of the last chapter from his perspective. There’s some flashbacks in this chapter. They’re all labeled.
> 
> All I ask is that you trust me, loves. Let me be your anesthesiologist. I’ll guide you through this countdown and see you through to the end. It might hurt, but you’re going to be okay. I’ll take care of you.
> 
> TW: blood
> 
> 100AG = the year that the war ended. Summer 100AG = summer of Sozin’s comet.
> 
> Alright, on to the story. Let’s go, fam.

* * *

* * *

_“What was it like to love her?” asked Gratitude.  
_ _It was like being exhumed, I answered. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance._

 _“What was it like to be loved by her?” asked Joy.  
_ _It was like being seen after perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence._

_-lang leav_

* * *

* * *

“Do you know anything about this?” Katara screamed, bursting through the doors of his council room.

Zuko quirked an eyebrow at her as she whipped past his councilors, apparently heading straight for him. She slapped a letter down in front of him.

“This,” she said, pointing. “Do you know anything about this?”

_Please, not this. Not now. Not yet._

He read the signature before anything else and his heart dropped. He flashed Katara a look, willing her to understand: _Not in front of them. Please. Just give me more time. I’ll find a way to explain this to you._

He could tell by the furrow of her eyebrows that she didn’t understand a word of that. He sighed in defeat. “What would you like _us_ to do, Katara?” He tried the look again, _Not here. Not now. I know you’re angry. But, please._

Evidently, this only made her angrier.

“Apparently _you_ have been ignoring these proposals,” she said, glaring daggers at him. “Tori has been sending funding requests for the past three months and he hasn’t heard anything back.” At this, Zuko glanced down the table to meet the ten pairs of eyes of his councilors staring intently at him. Katara, however, noticed nothing and continued to yell. “ _You_ are responsible for approving these,” she said, dropping the proposals into his lap. _Weren’t these on my desk?_ “It comes from _your_ treasury, so it needs _your_ signature.”

His councilors narrowed their eyes at him expectantly before devolving into murmurs amongst themselves. “Tori?” “What funding?” “The Earth Kingdom projects?” Far too innocent-sounding to his ears.

_Very nice, you little snakes,_ he thought bitterly.

“Katara,” he tried for a more direct approach. “I think we should discuss this privately.” He could hear the tiny crack in his voice and hoped it was enough to tip her off.

“Why?!” she demanded. “It’s a matter of international policy. There’s nothing less private than that!”

_Gods, I love you, but you’re impossible._

“Sir, please tell us this isn’t about those silly little vanity projects.”

_Here we fucking go._

Zuko watched Katara’s eyes grow wide with shock and offense and he hated it. He hated this situation. And he hated himself for allowing it. His councilor shot him a glance before speaking again to Katara. Zuko tried not to listen to the insults, tried to focus on anything but the very intentional act of riling Katara up. He held his head in his hands and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his focus onto anything but the anger building within him.

“Years?!” he heard Katara scream in outrage. She spun to face him. Behind her, ten faces glared at him with a look that said, “Don’t you dare screw this up.” He remained fixed in torment and Katara growled in what had to be frustration at him.

They continued back and forth with at least some degree of civility until the councilor told Katara that she would never influence Fire Nation politics.

_Not if I have anything to say about it._

“As if you should be so lucky! I haven’t attempted to influence a single thing since I arrived. Maybe I should have! I know more about the ‘best interests’ of your citizens by spending three months among them than you’ll ever know from your gilded tower!” she shouted.

Zuko sat a little straighter at that remark and felt a swell of pride. She was right. She was so terribly right.

He let himself drift for only a second and imagined a world where Katara would have the power to prove exactly how right she was. Where she would dominate these stubborn old men with more than her sheer force of will. (Not that she needed anything more than that.) But she would be able to do it with the one thing these men respected – a crown.

Zuko was ripped from his fantasy when he heard:

“You could never hope to understand our culture, peasant.”

_Too far._

_WAY too fucking far._

Zuko saw red and he turned it into reality. He channeled the instant of blinding rage into a snake of fire that slithered down the table, snapping and biting at everything in its path. He directed an extra bit of venom, an extra bit of heat to the councilor who had insulted Katara and smiled in cruel satisfaction when the man let out a little yelp as he jumped backward.

(This wasn’t part of the plan. He hadn’t planned on losing his temper. But then again, this entire thing was barely planned. Zuko had staunchly refused to talk about it after his councilors had proposed it to him a month ago.

“My lord, it’s for the good of the nation,” one councilor had said.

“Sir, we understand your feelings for Master Katara, but you must put them aside for the time being.”

“My lord,” his military advisor had piped in, “I mean you no disrespect, but this is a matter of the utmost importance. You must prioritize your role as Fire Lord over all other things in this instance.”

Zuko growled in reluctance that his councilors took as consent.

“Thank you, my lord. We shall set in motion the necessary preparations. When the opportunity presents itself, we will ensure that Master Katara finds her way to the Earth Kingdom.”)

Zuko let the anger of this moment and the anger from the past month consume him. It scorched through his veins and he let himself feel the pain of it. The pain of having to lie to her. The pain of the possibility of losing her.

He tempered himself into what he knew was a terrifying presentation of quiet control. His throat was tight when he spoke,

“Your insult to Master Katara’s work and to Master Katara herself is inexcusable.” _Unnecessary and out of line._ “You bring shame upon yourself, upon me, and upon your country.” _Your idiotic plot brings shame upon me._ “I advise each and every one of you to consider your words carefully before you speak in her presence again. I expect better of you. I demand better of you. You will not dishonor yourselves or me again.” _Or you will suffer the consequences._ “Get out.”

He watched them as they scrambled to leave, half of them faking their fear and the other half truly shaken by his outburst. The councilor who had insulted Katara was one of the latter.

“Oh, and councilor?” he asked, prolonging the man’s discomfort. “Do not confuse my mercy for weakness.”

_Do not think this will go unpunished. When this is all over, you will answer to me. And to Katara._

“Fuck.” Katara’s word echoed in the empty chamber. He had almost forgotten she was there.

She started toward him. “You should go, too.”

“You can’t order me around.”

“I wasn’t,” he gave her the hardest look he could muster. He almost hoped it would scare her off until he remembered who he was talking to. “It was a suggestion.”

“How’s this for a suggestion: tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He groaned. “Can’t you just trust me?”

“I have no idea what you’re asking me to trust you on.”

_To do the right thing._

“That’s why it’s called trust, Katara.” He felt drained. He did not want to have this conversation now. Or ever, really. But especially not now.

“Fine. Tell me one thing,”

“Fine,” he sighed, begging it to be something easy. Something he wouldn’t have to lie about.

“Why now?”

“Wha—”

“Why did you stop funding now?”

“It’s complicated…I had to move some money around.” _Not a lie._

“Oh ‘complicated.’ Thank you for sparing me the ‘complicated’ details. I’m sure my little peasant brain wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Katara, you _know_ that isn’t what I meant.”

She scoffed. “The timing seems a little suspicious to me.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m just saying. I’ve been here for three months. They haven’t gotten money in three months. Might that be because it’s someone else asking for it?”

_She’s kidding. It’s a sick joke. She can’t really think that. She can’t think it’s something that stupid. That juvenile._

“Are you implying that I’d be jealous? Or that I’d be petty enough to withhold money because of your…history?”

“It adds up.”

“You should check your math.” Anger boiled beneath the surface. As much as he didn’t want it to, it threatened to erupt. _After everything we’ve been through, this is what you think of me?_

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” he said when she rolled her eyes at him.

“The truth seems like your best option at this point.”

“I _am_ telling you the truth,” he gritted.

“All of it?”

_That’s it. I’m done._

“Katara, you have to trust me.” He turned from her and walked toward the door. “Well…” He paused with his hand on the handle. “I suppose you don’t have to. But I don’t know of many successful relationships that exist without trust.”

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko traced his fingertip across the characters of Katara’s signature on the last letter she had ever sent him, lost in thought when a servant approached.

“Sorry to disturb you, my lord. This just arrived for you. It was marked urgent.”

Zuko took the letter and scanned it quickly. _Of course. Of course this had to come tonight._

He pinched his forefingers together at the bridge of his nose and kneaded for a moment before calling servant back to give an order. “Call my councilors and military advisors together for a meeting.”

“Now, sir?”

“Now.”

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko rushed down the hall, his head spinning with emotion and strategy. Far from a productive mix of thoughts. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice Katara until he had nearly barreled over her.

“Zuko, we need to—” she stared.

“I know,” he said, holding up the letter he had pinched between his fingers. “We leave in an hour. I need to speak to a few people. Get your things.” He took off again, heading for his study and the despicable meeting that he had called.

“Zuko?” she called after him. He turned to look over his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said.

_Not as sorry as I am._

“Me too,” he said and kept walking.

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko passed the letter around his circle of military advisors and councilors. Each nodded silently as they read the letter.

“I’ll go myself,” Zuko when the last looked up from reading it.

“Why would you do that? Sir, you have officers at your service who are more than willing to provide the necessary backup.”

“The only way I will allow this,” he gritted, “is if I go too.”

They cast a look amongst themselves, silently conferring.

“Sir, as your council, we must advise against this.”

“Noted.” He glared at them. “Ready the ship.”

*_*_*_*_*

The midnight moon peeked through the clouds, casting an ethereal light on the dark ocean below. Katara leaned against the railing. She swayed with the rise and fall of the ship as it steamed through the waves, feeling the flow of the water as it allowed the ship’s safe and smooth passage.

Zuko took in the sight of her, steady upon the crashing waves on the ever-changing sea. Though he was comfortable enough now, it had taken him a few years to acquire his sea-legs. Katara looked like she was born here. Like she had taken her first steps with the sea undulating beneath her. And like she could find a way to steady herself no matter how tumultuous the circumstances. She was resolute certainty amidst swirling ambiguity.

She faced away from him, and her silhouette against the endless black ocean below and the infinite twinkling stars above may have been the last thing that Zuko never knew he needed. From that point on, whenever he would think of her, he would think of this moment.

“There you are,” she said, turning when she sensed his presence.

He would remember her exactly like this, he promised himself. When he was ninety years old and thinking back on his life, he would remember her like this. The girl who had swept into his life and helped him question the only truths he had ever known. The woman who frustrated him to no end with her stubbornness. She seemed impossible. Improbable by cosmic odds. How was this perfectly imperfect creature, so self-assured, so beautifully confident, so confused by the world, so hurt by the world, yet so determined to fix it – how was she real? How had he gotten so lucky to meet her? To know her? To love her? And to be loved by her?

Yet, even though the chances of their meeting were a million-to-one, even though the chances of them falling in love were a billion-to-one, she was here now, and she was real. A walking, talking, fighting, frightening contradiction with her kisses as soft as snow and her glares as hard as ice. With her iron-will and endless drive to improve. Improve the world. Improve herself. She tried every day, learning to compromise. Learning to put him first. Learning to ask what he wanted.

If Zuko had learned anything in their time together, it was that she was all of these things and all of their opposites. She was every kindness she had ever dealt, every mistake she had ever made, every tear she had ever cried, every moment of triumph, and every moment of defeat. She was all of these things tangled up in the impossibly loving, the unquestionably loyal, the terrifyingly strong Katara. And he loved every single part.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, closing the gap between them. He swallowed her small sound of confusion as he kissed her deeply. He wrapped one hand around her waist and tangled the other in her hair to support the back of her head as he dipped her. She made no attempt to break away, but her hands scrambled to clutch at his shirt to hold herself up. She chased his lips as he pulled away and pressed little crescents into his skin with her nails until he kissed her again. He lowered her against his bent knee for support, but she wound her hands around his neck and pulled him down until they both tumbled onto the deck.

She smiled in victory and tightened her arms around him. “Gotcha,” she said.

“You think so, huh?” he asked. “If I’m not mistaken, I am on top of you. I think I got you.”

“I put you there.”

“And I put _you_ there,” he smirked, looking down at her. His hair fell loose around his shoulders and tickled her face. She toyed with it, twisting it around her finger and regarded the man above her. He looked tired, very tired. And although his eyes were as warm as they always were when he looked her, there was something else there too. Something that she couldn’t name but that tugged at her heart. Something she had seen before.

She played with his hair for a moment before releasing it. She placed a gentle hand on his left cheek, brushing her thumb over his lips and running her fingers along the ridges of rough skin there.

“I love you,” she told him.

He turned his head into her hand and placed a kiss in her palm. “I love you, too.”

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko watched helplessly as Katara paced up and down the deck. He could tell that the days passed much too slowly for her liking. Her eyes were trained on the horizon in search of the sliver of land that represented her opportunity to fix whatever problem she had unknowingly created. He had tried to explain that she wasn’t responsible for whatever had gone wrong, but she would always answer with an “I know. I know.” Conversation over.

She still slept nestled in his arms every night though fretfully. “Shhhh, love,” he whispered as she twitched. “It’s alright.” He smoothed over her hair in long strokes. “I’m right here with you. Everything’s alright. You’re going to be alright.” He bundled her in his embrace and held her tight and prayed that she got half as much comfort from being held as he got from holding her. “We’re going to be alright,” he almost added.

On the fourth day, she had nearly worn a hole in the floor with her pacing when a shout of “Land!” rang across the deck. Katara’s heart leapt and Zuko’s sunk.

*_*_*_*_*

After disembarking, they traveled inland on foot. Zuko’s staff had seemed almost offended when he refused the carriage. “It’s faster if we travel alone,” he explained. They could do nothing but bow their heads and say “Yes, sir. We will bring the caravan to your destination.”

Following the river inland, it was only a few days’ journey to the capitol city of the Western province. Katara was happy to let Zuko lead, looking curiously over his shoulder as he marked their progress on his map. She admired the map; it looked hand drawn and was labeled in Zuko’s distinct calligraphy. His style was familiar, but the characters were elongated and curving. _Formal Fire Nation script_ , she realized. It looked laborious. And it was hard to read.

*_*_*_*_*

They traveled easily and well together, falling into old habits of setting up camp and hunting and cooking.

“You owe me dinner,” Katara said on the second evening. She knelt hunched over a log, chopping vegetables on a makeshift cutting board.

“Is that so?” Zuko said without looking up from arranging logs into formation for a fire. “I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

“Maybe not explicitly.”

“Then not at all.” He brushed his hands on his pants as he stood and ignited the base of the fire with a flick of his wrist. He felt the warmth of each twig as it combusted and watched the glowing orange sparks dance and fizzle against the inky night sky. “Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said as he approached her.

They’d spent the past two days doing exactly this. Bantering. Back-and-forth and on-and-on. Somehow Katara could read his mood. _She knows. She always knows._ She knew when to poke him and when to walk quietly at his side. Right now, she was poking him, provoking him.

“Please?” She fake-pouted and put a hand on her hip to sass him. He raked his eyes down her body, lingering over the swell of her breasts before appreciating the cut of her dress that may have been sewn in modesty but stood no chance at concealing the shape of her muscular thighs or the curve of her hips. He was suddenly starved in a way that wouldn’t be satiated by the dinner she was making.

He loved when she would tease him. He loved teasing her right back. He loved how naturally they fit together. How he never knew who had the upper-hand when the sparred or argued. How they could flip the script on each other in an instant. How even now in this chaos and confusion, she was his certainty. How she wanted him. And how he wanted her.

How even though, right now, he was stalking toward her like a predator, the dare in her eyes responded with equal fervor and said, “come get me.”

He turned her back toward where she had been preparing their dinner and knelt behind her. Close. So close. He placed his hand over hers, both of their hands gripping the knife. He leaned down and rested his chin in the crook of her neck.

“There,” he said, looking over her shoulder to the half-cut cucumber. “You’ve got me. Now show me what you want me to do.” He waited for her to move her hand to guide him.

The tiny shudder of her breath would have been imperceptible if Zuko hadn’t been waiting for exactly that. He smiled as she moved her wrist in a circular motion, cutting several slices of cucumber.

“Like this,” she told him. “One fluid motion. No wasted movements.”

“One fluid motion. Got it.” He lifted his hand from hers and she passed the knife to him. He held it firmly but made no motion until she covered his hand with hers. He cut the way she had, in a smooth circular motion.

“Good. Very good,” she praised.

A beat.

Two.

Three.

He was reaching for the next vegetable when she twisted her head around and crashed their lips together, nearly knocking him backward.

He reclaimed his balance physically but was still mentally reeling when she bit down his neck, her teeth leaving damningly beautiful evidence of this moment.

The knife clattered to the ground as he let her guide his hands to her hips. She placed them there before entwining hers behind his head, pulling him into another kiss. She ground against him. Zuko couldn’t keep the smug grin from his face as she let out a sudden gasp when she pushed her hips backward and his still-clothed erection slipped between her legs.

He flexed his hips against her and snaked one hand under her skirt and beneath her wrappings. He cupped his hand around her and teased a fingertip against her, growling in satisfaction at the wetness that he found there.

She writhed against him and let out a whine. He slipped a finger inside her and she lolled her head to one side, exposing the sweet skin of her neck to him. He devoured her greedily, leaving impressions of his teeth as he went. His other hand made its way up to her mouth and she sucked on his fingers as he slowly pumped in and out of her. She made an unintelligible sound that might have been his name in the language of lust. He added another finger and she hissed in pleasure.

Katara freed her hand from its hold on his neck and snuck it beneath the layers of his clothes and into his trousers. She explored until his gasp told her she had found her destination. She ran her palm along the length of him and smirked at the way his hand stuttered within her. He recovered quickly and she rewarded him with a tight grip around his cock and a gentle twist. She matched her strokes with the pace of his fingers moving in and out of her, brushing her thumb over the head of his cock when he teased her clit.

She tortured him with alternating slow and rapid strokes that made him growl in frustration. He reciprocated by dragging his finger perfectly over the exact spot that put little stars in her vision and slowing two seconds before she could reach her climax. She gnashed her teeth and he bit at her shoulder.

Neither broke. They both broke. Either way, Katara ended up on her hands and knees suffering the best orgasm of her life as Zuko drove into her relentlessly. She tightened every muscle she could as she came and groaned in satisfaction when she felt his control shatter. He dug his fingers into her hips and held her in place while he drew back. She sucked in a shuddering breath that turned into a scream when he slammed himself inside her once more. He buried his cock completely within her as he came and the pulsating flood of warmth that Katara felt sent little aftershocks of pleasure through her entire body.

The fell together and panted against each other. They stayed there for several minutes, lazy, hazy and uninterested in everything but the tiny world that they had created between them. The tiny world that had no room for plots or politics or wars.

When they finally caught their breath and came back to reality, he kissed her nose and asked, “Do I still owe you dinner?”

She rubbed her legs together and relished the trail of sticky fluid that dripped down her inner thigh. Proof that he loved her.

“No. But will you make it for me anyway?”

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko rose early the next morning, earlier than usual. Hours before sunrise. Sleep offered no refuge from the cycle of thoughts that plagued him. There was no light in the sky when he gently disentangled himself from Katara, settling her onto the mat and tucking the blanket around her shoulders.

He lit a flame and looked over his map. Not far from where they were camped lay a little village he had marked “the one.” He had seen Katara glancing over his shoulder at the map as the traveled and he wondered if she were able to read his formal calligraphy. He knew she had been studying.

He glanced back at the sleeping Katara before pulling on a hooded cloak and heading into the forest.

The forest was silent in those wee morning hours, every creature either asleep or hidden. He treaded through the underbrush, following imperceptible trails left by other people trekking in and out of the forest. He used trodden leaves and snapped branches to point him in the right direction. He sniffed the air, in search of the faint scent of smoke that was the tell-tale sign of civilization. He found none. He pressed on.

Zuko came upon his target suddenly and surprisingly. His usual methods of tracking were useless. Without the smell of smoke growing ever stronger or twinkling light growing larger in the distance, he felt quite literally out of his element. The forest suddenly gave way to the edge of a small village, dark and still in the early morning hours.

He entered the village soundlessly, slipping among the small buildings with ease. He surveyed things as he moved. Nothing out of place so far. A strange glowing green lantern here, a pot full of sand there. Some buildings newer than others.

Zuko didn’t know whether to feel more relieved or concerned at not finding what he had expected. Until.

Until.

Until he came upon the village square.

*_*_*_*_*

**Six years ago:**

**_Significant event report_ **

**_Description of event_ ** _: Under the orders of Fire Lord Ozai, in the summer of 100 AG, the First Elite Platoon of the Inland Battalion of the Western Brigade of the Fire Nation Army lead a campaign up the Hua Chang River to destroy all settlements found along the riverbank._

_The First Elite Platoon carried out these orders according to the prescribed Fire Nation Army method of razing settlements with the exception of one village located approximately twenty miles inland._

_This village, known to locals as Shen Lin, was approached by the fifteen soldiers of the First Elite Platoon. Evacuation and inspection orders were given to all residents. Residents were lined up in an orderly fashion and interviewed for bending abilities by soldiers of the First Elite Platoon. Residents that were determined to be Earthbenders were placed into a transport cart for transport to prison rigs. Four such Earthbending residents were noted. Non-bender residents were dismissed. Soldiers commenced burning structures and agricultural fields in the standard fashion._

_Earthbending residents began to rebel. A brief fight of Firebending versus Earthbending ensued. Earthbenders were significantly outnumbered. Soldiers contained the rebellion and bound the hands and feet of Earthbenders. One Earthbender was killed during the conflict. Two soldiers were injured._

_Soldiers executed the other three Earthbenders._

_Soldiers then departed, leaving corpses unattended and unburied. Village was half-burnt._

**_Report written by:_ **

_Lieutenant Colonel Tsui_

_Inland Battalion, Western Brigade_

_Summer 100 AG_

_\------_

**_Report seen, read, signed by:_ **

_Fire Lord Zuko_

_Autumn 100 AG_

*_*_*_*_*

**_Orders for apprehension and delivery to justice of war criminals:_ **

_Soldiers of the_ _First Elite Platoon of the Inland Battalion of the Western Brigade of the Fire Nation Army are hereby accused of crimes against humanity for crimes committed during the razing of the Earth Kingdom village, Shen Lin, in the summer of 100 AG. Soldiers are to be arrested and brought to stand trial for their crimes. Arrests may be made domestically or internationally._

**_So authorized by:_ **

_Fire Lord Zuko_

_Autumn 100 AG_

*_*_*_*_*

As the first rays of light began to tinge the sky, Zuko knelt before the memorial shrine in the village square – an arch with four stones at its base.

He could imagine the scorch marks and blood stains on the earth upon which he now knelt. He bowed his head to the ground and stayed there for a long moment, sick with disgust, shame, and sorrow.

A sound behind him sent a pang of terror through his body.

_Shit,_ he thought, looking to the lightening sky. He hadn’t meant to stay this long.

“Who’s there?”

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Zuko stood slowly, pulling his hood further over his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just passing through.”

“That’s alright,” a young woman said, approaching him. “Are you a traveler? We don’t get many travelers through here.”

“Yes. Just a traveler. Just passing through.” He tried his best to keep his head down though he knew the lack of eye contact was rude. He tried to turn away, tried to find an escape.

“Soo?” Another voice came from behind the young woman. An older woman appeared behind her, tightening her shawl against the morning chill as she approached the pair of them. “What are you doing out here? And who is this?” she asked, eyeing Zuko.

“Nothing, Mother. I was just coming to replace the incense at the shrine when I met this traveler.”

“Is that so?” the older woman asked, bending at the knee to try and get a look at Zuko’s face under his hood.

The younger woman mimicked her mother and jumped back a foot when she saw his face.

“Oh! You’re injured!”

“No, no! I’m not. It’s not—”

“You need to go to a hospital!” she interrupted. “You should go upriver a ways more. About ten miles up, there’s a hospital. It’s brand new. It was built by Master Katara. Have you heard of her? The Avatar’s waterbending teacher? She built it a few years ago and taught all of the healers there. She is the best healer there is so I’m sure they could help you.”

Zuko smiled at Katara’s reputation. “No, really. It’s not a new injury. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

“Even if it were, there’s not much they could do to help anyway,” the older woman said. “They haven’t been able to treat anyone in months. Apparently, they’re out of supplies” she said, shooing her daughter away and dropping her voice.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Fire Lord?”

“I—” he sputtered and braced himself for the onslaught, physical or verbal. He waited a moment. When none came, he took off his hood and bowed his head in respect. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t imagine you’d want someone like me here.”

“Did you not come to pay your respects to our dead?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then you are welcome to do so.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Young man, did you kill my son?” she asked, gesturing toward a stone at the shrine’s base.

“No.”

“Did you command the soldiers who attacked our village?”

“No.”

“Then I have no quarrel with you.”

“I’m sorry, but I still don’t –”

“How can I hate you for something you did not do?” The question was asked in earnest and she waited for him to answer. When Zuko could think of no response, he simply shook his head and she continued, “I will never forgive the men who killed my son and destroyed my home. But I refuse to hate someone just because of where they come from or what element they bend. If I did, I would be no better than those monsters.”

Zuko pondered that and wondered at her. He must have let his face betray him because she said, “I can see you’re still troubled.”

“You don’t owe me this kindness.”

“No. I don’t. But it is freely given, nonetheless. How else is the world to heal from the wounds of war?”

He had no answer. No better way of putting it. Nothing wiser to add to that sentiment. Instead, he simply bowed his head once again, thanked her, and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Fire Lord?”

“Yes?” he said, turning back to her.

“About the hospital funding?” she asked. “Fix it.”

*_*_*_*_*

Katara was up at dawn. She rolled over on her mat, expecting to find Zuko looking back at her with his golden eyes shining in the early light of day. But the space beside her was empty. She bolted up and patted the ground beside her, searching for her waterskin. She scanned camp, looking for a message scratched into the dirt or something. Anything. Finding nothing, she ran into the forest following nothing but fear and intuition. Well, much, much, much more of the former.

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko made his way back through the forest, dazed and far from himself. He thought of forgiveness and those who were worthy of it. He thought of who got to decide that worthiness. He thought of Katara and her forgiveness of the world. He thought of the village woman who somehow didn’t spite the Fire Nation for the death of her son. How some people had that inner strength, he didn’t know. How some people had faith in humanity even after all they’d seen, he didn’t understand. How they could ever trust again, he didn’t understand.

He was deeply lost in thought when he stumbled upon an unexpected and unwelcome call back to reality.

Something frightful, yet familiar.

He had never seen a wolf-panther before this moment. But he’d read and re-read Katara’s letter enough times to know what they were.

He knew they traveled in packs. He knew they were fierce predators. And he knew that they liked their space.

So, when he stumbled upon one, completely accidentally, and found it to be none of those things, he was surprised to say the least. Surprised, but not stupid. His mind snapped back into attentiveness as he backed away from the sleeping animal immediately and took shelter in the brush, hoping that the it had not heard him. He laid on his belly, mapping the twigs around him and planning how to creep away without making a sound when a second wolf-panther entered the clearing.

_Shit._

He laid as flat as he could, making himself as invisible as possible under the cover of the bushes.

The second wolf-panther approached the sleeping one carrying a rabbit-mouse in its mouth. It placed its kill down in front of the first and laid behind it so that the wolf-panthers’ bodies formed a circle around the rabbit-mouse. The second wolf-panther whined softly and scratched at the ground until the first woke up.

The sleeping wolf-panther woke up with its nose first, sniffing enthusiastically at the meat in front of its face. It opened its eyes and licked its lips hungrily, hardly waiting a moment before pouncing on the offering. It tore into its breakfast with ravenous hunger but stopped halfway through, stepping back from the bloody mess and nudging it toward the second wolf-panther.

The second had begun to tuck into its breakfast when it stiffened suddenly. A twig snapped from outside the clearing. The first rose to its feet. Zuko realized as it walked over to stand beside the second that it moved with a limp. They growled in his direction in unison, heads bowed and hair standing on end. They bared their teeth and Zuko noted that, though they were still ferocious in their own right, their teeth were yellow and worn and their fur was grey with age.

Zuko held his breath and dreaded having to fight such noble beasts. He prepared to draw the swords at his side when another twig snapped behind him. The wolf-panthers leapt over his head in perfect synchrony.

A snarl. A hiss. Two thuds on the dew-covered ground. Zuko had no time to process the meaning of these things before he saw Katara roll into the clearing, a wolf-panther chewing on each of her arms.

He knew nothing in that moment besides heart-stopping terror. There was no reason, no thought behind his movements as he clambered into the clearing from his hiding place. Katara gaped when she saw him, freezing for a second. In that second, the wolf-panthers clamped their jaws around her arms and sunk their teeth deep within her flesh.

“What are you doing out here?!?!” she barely managed to get out before she screamed in agony. She thrashed and threw them off but only had a few seconds to reorient herself before they were on her again. They bit at her ankles, sending her tumbling to the ground. Zuko sprang forward, wrestling one away. “Don’t!” she screamed as he fought to contain the vicious animal in his hold.

The wolf-panther he was holding barked to its partner and suddenly there were two sets of claws ripping into him. He let fire flow from his hands and aimed a blow directly at the animal.

Sizzle.

Steam.

A baffled Zuko was still pinned beneath two wolf-panthers that looked just as confused as he did.

“Shit!” Katara’s voice rang in his ears. He twisted as much as he could to see her arm still outstretched toward him.

The wolf-panthers snapped their focus back to him. One growled low and the other stepped over his head to bite at his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck. The first snarled and leaned back, readying itself to leap at his throat. Time seemed to stretch and Zuko tore his eyes from the wolf-panther to see Katara struggling to push herself up from the ground. She faltered as her arms buckled beneath her. Her wrist wrappings were completely blood-soaked and there were long lines of nearly black liquid that wept with her movements snaking their way up her arms.

He returned his gaze to the animal above him and struggled under its weight. He tried to lift his hands but the wolf-panther behind him had both of its giant paws covering his hands. As he struggled, it only dug its claws deeper into his flesh.

The wolf-panther leapt at him and he braced himself for the pain. At least it would be a quick death.

As the first wolf-panther lurched toward him, there was a snarl from above him followed by a yelp. The tension force that had been holding his head in place vanished. His hands were freed in the same moment and he rolled to the side, the teeth of the first wolf-panther missing his throat by centimeters.

The wolf-panther that had been biting his hair lay on its side. Its limbs were disturbingly contorted. Its eyes were squeezed shut in what had to be pain. But pain was understandable, recognizable, relatable. What that creature was going through was something very few on this earth knew.

Its mate (it had to be, by the way it instantly changed from feral to fearful at the sound of the second wolf-panther’s cry) was suddenly disinterested in Zuko. It nudged gently at its suffering mate, whimpering. He licked at her and sniffed her body helplessly in search of some invisible injury.

Zuko used the lull to crawl over to Katara who was still fixed to the ground. But, as he approached her, he saw the tension in the draw of her brow. He knew that look. Her look of total concentration. He traced the path of her vision to the twitching wolf-panther and realized in sudden clarity, _she’s bloodbending._

She was as perfect as ever in her concentration, the only outward sign of the internal war she waged both within herself and within the veins of the creature before them being the curl of her fingers and the tight set of her lips.

The second-wolf panther let out of pitiful whimper as Zuko reached her.

“Katara…” he whispered in the space between them.

She balled her fist and it yelped again. Its mate cried out in equal measure.

“Katara,” he tried again. He squeezed her arm and blood seeped from her wounds.

“Look away if it bothers you,” she said, barely moving her mouth to speak.

“It doesn’t bother me. It never has. I just want you to know I’m here.”

She stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the two wolf-panthers. She remained motionless there, deciding. After a long moment, she blew a breath through her nose and relaxed by degrees. Slowly, the contorted animal relaxed as well. It cried softly and its mate laid down beside it.

Katara collapsed against the dirt, relinquishing her hold on the wolf-panther. Zuko caught her before her head slammed into the ground. He gathered her in his arms and lifted her, blood dripping from her as he stood. On the other side of the clearing, the wolf-panthers made no motion to follow them, only growling darkly as they left.

He carried her back to their camp, and she drifted in and out of consciousness. She kept her arms around his neck, though her grip was weak.

“Stop trying to die on me,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Sorry,” he choked, the sound caught between amusement at her teasing and horror at the sight of her in his arms, bloodied and broken. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she slurred. “You’re an idiot. But I love you.”

He laid her on the bedroll and her eyes fluttered shut. Time stretched again. The world was made up of only him and her and this moment. He pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I can’t lose you.”

*_*_*_*_*

**3 months ago:**

_Sir,_

_We have recently become aware of a new person of interest. He is a Firebender previously unknown to Your Majesty’s government. He does not have any locatable records. However, he is known to be a former solider. In accordance with law, we have filed a new report and will continue to update Your Majesty as information becomes available. Please see attached._

_Yours,_

_Major Shzi_

**_Report on new person of interest in Western Earth Kingdom_ **

_Name: Torikae_

_Previous names: unknown_

_Nationality: Fire Nation_

_Place of birth: Fire Nation colonies in Earth Kingdom_

_Family: unknown_

_Occupation: leader of reconstruction in Western Earth Kingdom_

_Occupation during wartime: soldier_

_Branch of service: unknown_

*_*_*_*_*

Katara had gone to sleep softly but she woke up raging.

“Why the fuck didn’t you wake me? Look at you!” she screamed as she tore through the bandages that Zuko had wrapped around himself only hours before. He grimaced as he waited for a place between her shouts that he could tell her that her own bandages were soaked through again.

“You can’t be so—”

“Katara.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous—”

“Katara.”  
  


“I can’t believe you sometimes; you’re so stubborn. You should have never—”

“Katara, sweetheart. Love of my life. My moon and stars,” he pressed a finger to her lips. “Shut the fuck up. You’re bleeding and you’re making it worse.”

“Oh.”

He unwrapped her soiled bandages and pressed a cold cloth against her wounds. She hissed at the contact.

“Heal this,” he ordered as he kept pressure on her wounds.

She groaned.

“You heal it, or I cauterize it. Pick.”

“Okay, okay. Yeesh.”

Zuko watched with morbid curiosity as she moved the water over her arms. The wounds turned from black to red to light tan lines against her brown skin. She discarded the water in a disgusted sweep.

“Do you think you can walk?” Zuko asked as he packed their things and tied the ropes on their bags.

“I’m not delicate, Zuko. Don’t patronize me.”

He held his hands out in supplication. “Forgive me. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

She crossed her arms. “Don’t do that.”

He gave her a confused look. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t be sweet when I’m mad at you.”

He swung the bags over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to her head, “You could just not be mad at me.”

“Nice try.”

He chuckled. “It was worth a shot. Now, come on,” he said, offering her his hand. “We should be in the Western Province capitol by sundown.”

*_*_*_*_*

**6 days ago:**

_Sir,_

_Concerning new information found on our person of interest. Underlined for your reference._

_Yours,_

_Major Shzi_

**_Report on person of interest in Western Earth Kingdom_ **

_Name: Torikae_

_Previous names: unknown_

_Nationality: Fire Nation_

_Place of birth: Fire Nation colonies in Earth Kingdom_

_Family: unknown_

_Occupation: leader of reconstruction in Western Earth Kingdom_

_Occupation during wartime: soldier_

_ Branch of service: First Elite Platoon of the Inland Battalion of the Western Brigade of the Fire Nation Army _

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The dip kiss is essentially a trust fall. It doesn't quite work.
> 
> 2\. The wolf-panthers are an example of working together, as equals. They’re a metaphor for an old couple who know each other very well and trust each other. In the fight scene, the wolf-panthers are working together. Zuko and Katara are not. By all accounts the wolf-panthers should have won, but bloodbending is a pretty unfair advantage. 
> 
> I know it’s hard but please…just…trust me. ❤️


	13. Four, and more

* * *

* * *

_You are my what if.  
_ _What if  
_ _A shooting star granted  
_ _My wish?_

_And what if  
_ _You loved me  
_ _In every way I love you?_

_And what if  
_ _I am for you  
_ _As you are  
_ _For me._

_-julie martinez_

* * *

* * *

“I trust you.”

Zuko wiped the sweat from his brow. They were only a few hours’ walk from the capitol and the jungle heat must have been getting to him. He thought he just heard Katara’s voice. But, when he turned back to look at her, she had a quizzical look on her face.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“I said,” she said, stepping over a root, “I trust you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“All those years ago, on the day of the comet, you asked me if I trusted you.”

“I suppose I did,” Zuko said, recalling a day painted red with fire and bloodshed. A day very nearly stained with failure. A day in which two kids saved each other. That had been it, hadn’t it? Not their beginning. Not by a long shot. Not the beginning, but the crucible in which their unshakable bond was forged. Twisted together by their destinies that day. Twisted together by their choices to be there that day — to be there _together_ that day. By his choice to save her. By her choice to save him.

They had been so terribly twisted up in each other for so long. No amount of distance nor silence could erase it. Theirs was a spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. He knew it. She knew it. But neither knew how to tend their flame – how to keep it soft, glowing, warm, and alight forever.

“And I said yes,” she said, jerking his arm, trying to pull him back to her. Back to the present. “A few days ago, you asked me to trust you.”

“I…suppose I did.”

“My answer hasn’t changed. I trust you. Then. Now. Always.”

He was taken aback by her confession. He didn’t know what to say and he searched her face for the answer. He tried to decipher what she was expecting. If she was looking for something, he didn’t know how to give it to her. He didn’t know what she was looking for. He didn’t know the right answer or if there was one.

So, he said the only thing that felt right.

“Thank you, Katara.”

*_*_*_*_*

**3 months ago:**

“Onto the next agenda item, then. The fourteenth member of the First Elite Platoon has been apprehended. He will be tried. We anticipate a quick trial much like the others.”

Zuko hummed into his folded hands. As much as he hated to admit it, his council had been right about this issue. Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom citizens alike lauded his efforts to bring to justice the perpetrators of the Shen Lin massacre. It was one of the few uncontroversial things that he had done during his tenure thus far.

“On a related note, my lord?” the councilor said, directing his voice at Zuko. “You received correspondence from Major Shzi on a new person of interest?”

“I did.”

“And? Do they fit any of the profiles for wanted criminals?”

“At present I don’t have much more than a name and an occupation.”

And that occupation had been most concerning. “Leader of reconstruction in Western Earth Kingdom,” the document had read. Zuko’s blood had run cold. Katara’s position. A thousand questions raced in his mind _. Who? How? Why? Does she know? Is she safe?_

“Please keep us informed, my lord.”

Zuko nodded stiffly.

*_*_*_*_*

**1 month ago:**

“Onto the next agenda item, then. We continue to gather intelligence on our person of interest in the Western Earth Kingdom. At this point, we know this person served in the Fire Nation army during the war. Thereafter, they began work in the reconstruction and eventually became acquainted with our very own Master Katara.” The councilor stopped and ten sets of eyes turned toward Zuko at the head of the table.

He knew exactly what they were doing. They were testing the waters. Seeing what would set him off. He scoffed at their trepidation. Not because it was misplaced. But because it was so pitifully insufficient.

The councilor continued, “At this point, we do not have the final piece of confirmatory evidence, but we believe it would be prudent to begin developing a plan to apprehend this person should it be confirmed that they are indeed the fifteenth member of the First Elite Platoon.”

Eyes flicked toward him again. Zuko opened his hand and waved, permitting the councilor to continue.

“Based on our interviews from other members of the platoon, we know that the fifteenth member is very dangerous. Thus, in order to minimize loss of life during his arrest, we recommend a sting operation. Based on her history with the suspect, we believe Master Katara would be ideal for this mission.” He looked at Zuko expectantly.

“Of course, she would,” Zuko said without hesitation. “She can handle anything.” That was an easy truth. She was impossibly strong and smart and infinitely capable.

“I’m relieved to hear that you agree, my lord.”

“Were you expecting me to disagree that she is a capable warrior?”

“Not at all.”

“Then, what?”

“Well, there’s another element of the plan that Your Majesty may find less palatable.”

“Out with it.”

“Well…” he began. “As I may have mentioned, we believe the best course of action is a sting operation. And in this case, we think it best if both the target and Master Katara be unaware of our intent.”

Zuko’s good eye widened for a second before his brow furrowed in anger.

“You want,” he gritted, “to use her. As bait.”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but essentially, yes. She’s perfect for it. She can lure him into a false sense of security. That’s the best chance we have of capturing him without bloodshed.”

“And why must she be kept in the dark on this?”

“Do you honestly think she would believe us? Master Katara’s loyalty is one of her strengths, but in this case, it may work against us.”

Zuko loathed everything about this situation. He loathed putting Katara in danger even though he knew she could more than take care of herself. He loathed willfully withholding information from her, even if it was for a good cause. He loathed the thought of the damage he was doing in the Western Earth Kingdom by withholding funding.

He could just tell her, he reasoned. He could just tell her and swear her to secrecy. But then, if his council was right and she didn’t believe him (and why should she without a shred of evidence?) what would she do? He knew the answer to that question. She had answered it years ago. When it came time to choose, there was something more important to her than he was. And if she didn’t believe the truth about Tori, she would see Zuko’s attempt to arrest him as an attempt to destroy everything she had built.

No, he couldn’t tell her. Not without proof. Not without insurance to make her believe him. Not without insurance to make sure that he didn’t lose her.

Zuko loathed everything about this situation. Its moral ambiguity. Its multitude of different interests. He couldn’t do right by everyone. He could do right by himself and refuse to do anything. He could do right by his country and the victims of the Shen Lin massacre and arrest the last member of the First Elite Platoon using Katara as a lure. He could do right by Katara and tell her the truth and let her decide what she believed and what she wanted to do. But he couldn’t do right by everyone. No matter how much he wanted to. Someone was going to get hurt. And it was going to be his fault.

The room had gone deadly silent with Zuko lost deep in thought. A councilor cleared his throat, “Sir?”

He had to balance who he needed to be with who he wanted to be. And those things were most often in concurrence. But not this time. This time they were mutually exclusive.

Zuko growled in reluctance that his councilors took as consent. Duty first. Katara second. Himself last.

“Thank you, my lord. We shall set in motion the necessary preparations. When the opportunity presents itself, we will ensure that Master Katara finds her way to the Earth Kingdom.”

*_*_*_*_*

**Present:**

“Katara, it is so good to see you again.”

“Governor Qui. Pleasure’s all mine.”

“And…Fire Lord Zuko,” Governor Qui said, casting his eyes on Zuko and bowing his head. “It’s an honor to meet you. I was unaware that you would be accompanying Master Katara.”

“Not in an official capacity.”

A look of confusion crossed Qui’s face, but he had the tact to say nothing. He ushered them both into his office.

“So,” Katara asked as she arranged herself on a cushion. Zuko mirrored her and Qui sat across from them. “What’s the situation?”

“Well,” Qui began, fiddling uncomfortably. “Let me begin by saying I am sorry if we have done something to offend you, Fire Lord.”

“Not at all.”

“We are most appreciative of your prior support and of course you are free to patronize whichever charity efforts you prefer. But, I must ask, was there a reason for the sudden discontinuation?”

“It was a political concern. I apologize that I cannot elaborate further.”

Zuko glanced sideways at Katara and found her twisting her mouth into a contortion of displeasure. But she said nothing.

“I see,” Qui said. “I only wish you had given us some notice. We could have stockpiled supplies. As it stands our hospitals are hurting badly for basic medical supplies.”

Zuko swallowed thickly and thought of the village woman he had met that morning. “Fix it,” she had said without a note of malice or contempt. It was a simple command.

“I was not aware of the impact that my decision would have on existing institutions.” _True_ , he thought. _Diplomatically phrased. But true._

Katara seemed to be able to sense this. She knew his professional voice from his authentic one. “You would have known if you had just asked me,” she said tersely.

“In any case,” Qui said, sensing the mounting tension, “now that you are here, Master Katara, you can help us reach out to our network and begin to set things right.”

“I’d be happy to. What kind of progress has Tori made?”

“None. That is why I asked you here.”

“That’s not possible…Has Tori not reached out to any of our contacts?”

“I do not know. All I know is that we have been stagnant for months. I’ve asked the young man repeatedly and he tells me that he is handling it. But there is clear evidence to the contrary.”

“I don’t understand this…” Katara mumbled to herself. She shook her head and stood suddenly.

Zuko reached out to grab her sleeve. She jerked away.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To fix this.”

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko had to run to catch up with her as she swept down the hall and out into the street.

“Katara, wait!”

She slowed marginally until he caught up with her.

“Ready to tell me, yet?”

Zuko tried to plaster an impassive mask over the fear and worry that he knew had been etched onto his face. Katara saw right through it.

“Tell you wha—”

“Save it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips as she looked him up and down. He felt the heat of her scrutiny like never before. He felt so exposed despite his attempts at cover-ups and half-truths. She saw right through him. Same as she always had. He braced himself for her to yell or at the very least, storm off again.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she sighed and breathed steadily in and out a few times. 

“I know you’re lying to me,” she said at last.

His heart seized in fear and he blurted, “I’m not lying.”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Fine. Not telling the whole truth. Doesn’t matter what you call it.” He looked at her, expecting to find her quietly seething in anger. But there was no anger to be found. In fact, she looked…calm?

“But, do you know what? My answer hasn’t changed,” she said. “I trust you. Do you know why I trust you, Zuko?”

He shook his head desperately and she gave him a look which only made his heart stutter again. But whether in panic, confusion, hopeless love, or otherwise he didn’t know.

“It’s because I know you. Like it or not, I know you. I’ve watched you go through things that most people couldn’t even dream of. And you’ve had to make a lot of difficult choices in your life. I may not love every choice you have made or every choice that you will make, but I have faith in you. I trust you to figure it out. I trust you to fumble your way through until you arrive at something that you can be proud of. I know you can do that. I’ve seen you do it before.”

“So, I don’t know where you are in that process right now or what choices you’ve made. But I trust you. I trust you to figure this—” she gestured vaguely around her, “whatever this is – out. Because I know you. And whatever you decide, I’m with you.”

He must have looked as shell-shocked as he felt because she picked up his hand with her own and kissed it lightly. Her eyes crinkled as she said, “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’d have a stroke or something if you willfully did something dishonorable.”

“Katara! Zuko!” A voice rang out behind him.

“Aang!” Katara stepped around Zuko.

_Aang?!?_

Zuko spun around. “What are you doing here?” He made an effort to contain the alarm in his voice, but he felt much too raw.

“Why are you always so surprised to see me?” Aang chuckled.

“I just had no idea you’d be here,” Zuko said all-too-honestly.

“Of course I’m here! I brought some supplies for the hospitals.”

Katara visibly brightened. “Aang, you’re a lifesaver!”

“Nah!” he said, though his face split into a grin. “It’s just my job. Want to come help me deliver this stuff?”

“I can’t. I need to go talk to Tori. But, Zuko, you go. I’ll meet you guys later.” She ran off before Zuko could open his mouth.

*_*_*_*_*

Katara made her way to the old camp. Past the hawk house and through the brush to the clearing where she had lived in a tent for years. But the clearing was empty. She walked back to the hawk house and stepped inside.

“Master Katara,” the aviary master greeted her amicably.

“Hello. Good to see you again. Have you seen Tori lately?”

“Tori?”

“Yes, Tori.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with that person.”

“My assistant?” She asked, trying to jog his memory. _I guess he didn’t ever get many messages. And I never let him retrieve mine._

“Oh, that young man. I haven’t seen him for several months.”

_That’s…strange…_

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

The aviary master looked around nervously. “I do not. I apologize, Master Katara. I do not know anything.”

Katara looked at his quizzically but he spoke nothing further.

“Well thank you, anyway.”

“Take care, Master Katara.”

She wandered back toward town beneath a twilight sky. The squish of the wet earth beneath her feet made her laugh in nostalgia. It had been a trying time, her years in the Earth Kingdom. Wrought with professional triumph and personal failure. And she was glad for it. Glad for everything she had done and everything she had learned. But mostly she was glad it was over.

She startled when a twig snapped behind her.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.”

*_*_*_*_*

**3 months ago:**

“For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry,” Katara said. And she did look at least a little sorry.

“Thanks.” Torikae kept his tone polite, if not a little gruff.

She gave him a look of pity. “Here,” she said, handing him a letter. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m appointing you to my position,” she said. “This is a letter to the Earth Kingdom leader of the reconstruction, saying that I want you to assume my duties. You’ll be great.”

Tori considered the letter in her offered hand for a moment before he took it and nodded. He rose in silence and crossed the room to the door.

“Goodbye, Katara,” he said, tossing a glance over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Tori,” he heard from behind him.

*_*_*_*_*

Tori traveled westward from Ba Sing Se alone. Back home to the Western Earth Kingdom. Back to the only place that could be called home at this point.

He preferred being alone.

Being with Katara had been almost like being alone. She asked for him rarely. And when she did it was usually late at night when the only parts of her that were awake were desperation and need. She never looked him in the eye; she always hid behind whatever she was imagining behind her own eyelids.

Tori knew this. He’d known for years. But what difference did it make what went on inside her head? What difference did it make what kind of desire Katara tortured herself with?

Wants and desires live inside our heads. The unchecked, unacknowledged things chew away at us for years and years until we are shadows of our former selves and all we can do is ask, “Where did it all go wrong?” They are the unsung songs of the heart, the lullabies we soothe ourselves with in the middle of the night when there is no one there to hear our broken, off-key song. They are the fragments of hope, the ruins of what-could-have-been, the tattered remains of “if only…”

Tori knew this. Maybe better than anyone.

And Katara understood it. Even if her pain was a different breed, she understood. She understood what it meant to be trapped in a mess of one’s own making. But she wasn’t sympathetic. No, she wasn’t sympathetic. She never asked and never knew anything of Tori to sympathize with. But she understood what it was like to hurt and that was enough.

Her pain was a different breed. _She_ was a different breed. She was untamable. She was as unpredictable as the sea and as uncontrollable as wildfire. She made no sense to him and he soon gave up trying. The only thing he understood about her is that he didn’t understand her and that he didn’t need to.

It was perfect. She didn’t ask about his past and he didn’t ask about hers. They enabled each other. They were a self-perpetuating cycle of denial.

Until they weren’t.

Until she left.

And he could say nothing. Do nothing. He had no right to her. Their arrangement was based on mutual benefit and if she decided that she no longer had anything to gain from him, then she could move on with her life. No questions. No resentment. That was the name of the cruel game they played.

That was their silent agreement.

And so, Tori meandered westward. Back to the only thing he had left. The only remaining support in the straw-house he had built for himself.

And then she took that too.

Well, _she_ didn’t.

He did.

*_*_*_*_*

Tori preferred being alone. And he preferred staying off the main road as he traveled. That was part of the reason it was so easy, so convenient to be with Katara. Attention was constantly fixed on her. He was nothing more than a wallflower in her presence. Being with Katara was hiding in plain sight.

But now he felt much more conspicuous.

But even conspicuous men had to eat. Tori ducked into a road-side tavern in search of a meal. He clattered a few coins on the counter to summon the barkeep, who took his order and pocketed his money. Tori folded himself into a corner to wait for his meal until he tuned in to a particular conversation between two men sitting a few feet away:

“—they just found number fourteen on a deserted island off the coast.”

_They couldn’t be talking about…_

“Damn. It’s been years since the last one was caught. Just when I thought Fire Lord Zuko might give up. This’ll re-ignite the interest.”

_They are._

“Oh, he was never going to give up. He’s relentless. But I bet he’ll turn up the heat now. There’s only one left.”

Tori balled his fists tightly, trying to maintain control. Trying not to scream in the middle of this quiet tavern.

Relentless. Yes, that was one way to describe the man who had rained an endless shitstorm on Tori’s life for the past six years. But there were other ways to describe him, Tori thought. Spineless rat. Presumptuous prick. Inept failure.

“Maybe he’ll sic the feisty Waterbender on the case,” one of the men chuckled as he took a swig out of his mug.

_It couldn’t be._

“Yeah I heard about her. What’s her name again? Ka-something?”

_It is._

“Katara,” Tori spat her name out like rancid milk.

“Hm? Didja say something, son?” one of the men asked, turning toward Tori.

Tori clenched his fists tighter and shoved them inside his tunic, trying to disguise the smoke that he knew was rising from them.

The man raised an eyebrow at him, and Tori shook his head quickly, hoping that would be enough to quell his curiosity. It wasn’t. The man traced the wisps of smoke through the air back to Tori and said with a smirk, “You’re a bit far from home, aren’t you, son?”

Tori ground his teeth. “Is it a crime to exist?”

“No. It’s just a little unusual to see a Firebender around these parts.”

“I never said I was—”

“Uh-huh. Then I suppose you’ve got a candle up your sleeve?” The other man said, standing from his seat to reveal a small Fire Nation army insignia on his shirt. “Got a name?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Look, kid. You can make this easy or hard. We’re just doing our jobs.”

“Just doing your jobs, huh?” Now that was something Tori understood. Perhaps better than most.

*_*_*_*_*

**Present:**

Katara spun around and squinted into the darkness. A form stepped forward.

“Tori! What are you doing here?”

“Proving a point.” His tone was biting.

That confused her, but she brushed it off. There were more pressing matters. “I’ve been looking for you. I’m here to help.”

“Yes. You are here to ‘help’,” he said with a sarcastic emphasis on the last word.

“What did I do? What did I do to make you hate me? You were fine the last time I saw you.”

Tori raised an eyebrow at her.

_This is going nowhere fast,_ she thought. _Great. We have to re-hash this old shit. We can’t just be fucking adults about this and move on with our lives._

“Zuko?” she guessed. “You hate him?”

Tori huffed a breath that Katara took as confirmation.

“Look, I’m sorry. I told you I was sorry about what happened between us. But that’s really not a good reason to hate him.”

Tori barked a laugh.

“You think I care that much about who you spread your legs for?”

She slapped him. Across the face. Hard. Really fucking hard.

Tori looked stunned for all of half a second. He touched his hand lightly to his face, feeling the heat and the sting of it.

Then his eyes darkened. He swished the spit around in his mouth before spitting blood at Katara’s feet.

“Touchy subject, huh?” He wiped at his mouth.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Very touchy, I see. Is all not well with His Royal Paltriness?”

“Why?!” she hissed, trying to contain her voice. “Why do you hate him? If you don’t hate him because of me, why do you?”

“Really?”

“Really what?!”

Tori chuckled low in his throat. “You really don’t know?” And then too quietly for Katara to hear, “That works out nicely…”

Katara felt the blood drain from her face. She suddenly felt very small. Like a pawn. Or a marionette. And she could almost see the strings around her, pulling her in this direction and that. The strings that had pulled her here. The strings that were now twisted around Tori’s fingers.

No.

She was no one’s puppet. She would not be controlled. She would not have her opinions told to her. She would not be manipulated.

“You don’t know him,” she asserted.

“And you do? Then tell me, what is he doing here?”

She stilled.

“Come on Katara. Use that pretty little brain of yours. Why the fuck would he come all the way out here? He was so important that he couldn’t make the time to visit you once in the six years you were gone, but all of the sudden he can drop everything? Something doesn’t add up.”

_Can’t you just trust me?_

“I trust him,” she said simply.

“You shouldn’t. He’s not here for you. There’s something else more important to him.” Tori smirked. “I mean, obviously it’s not you. You saw how easily he just cut off the funding to your life’s work. Did he even bother to lie to you about that or did he just think you were too stupid to notice?”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Tori. I just don’t know why you’re trying to do it. But it isn’t going to work.”

“Won’t it, Katara? You’ve got quite the temper on you. I know that. Maybe I just haven’t pushed the right buttons yet.”

Katara inhaled sharply but forced her eyes closed. She breathed in and out. In and out. In and out. Like the tides. Like the flickering of a flame. She focused on that feeling of control. Of holding power in your hand but waiting for the right moment to release it.

She could feel Tori’s eyes on her.

“You’ve learned a few new tricks, I see,” Tori said after observing her for a moment. “Did he teach you that technique? Has he tamed you that much, Katara? Has he taken the spirit right out of my feisty little Waterbender?”

Her eyes snapped open and in the same instant she pulled a stream from her waterskin, formed it into a wall of water and pushed forward, sending Tori stumbling backward until he fell to the muddy ground. She pulled the water from the earth to freeze his hands and feet in place.

“Two things,” she said. She slowly approached until she hovered over him and Tori had to crane his neck to look at her. She stood above him, the moon her backlight, wreathing her head in a halo of pale light like a crown.

“One,” she said deliberately. “I was never yours.”

“Two. Yes, he did teach me breathing exercises. They’re quite helpful, actually. They make me feel more centered. More sure of myself. Would you like to know what else he taught me?”

Tori swallowed thickly and he looked up to find her glowing in the cool moonlight.

“My strength was forged in the fires of my trials. My soul was carved by the ever-flowing river of calamity that has been my life.” Katara conjured an ice dagger and let it dangle loosely in her hand above Tori’s head. If she loosened her grasp and let gravity take it, it would spear him through the eye. “But sometimes I worry,” she said, twirling the shard through her fingers, “that those things have made me too hard. Sometimes I forget that softness isn’t weakness and that there is a quiet strength in vulnerability. That not all that burns is power.”

She relaxed her fingers and let liquid water fall over Tori’s face.

“Don’t confuse my mercy for weakness, Tori.”

*_*_*_*_*

It had been too long since Zuko had felt the freedom of flying. But he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the wind in his hair or the incredible view of the rising moon in the night sky.

“What’s your deal, Fire Lord Frowny?” Aang asked, nudging him. “You’ve barely said two words all night.”

“Not much to say,” Zuko said miserably.

“Ah, okay. I know that look. Is it your turn to screw up?” He laughed at his own joke. Zuko deflated.

“Ease up, ease up,” he said. “I’m sorry. It was just a joke. But, by the looks of it, I think I hit the nail on the head. You’re pretty bad at hiding your feelings. Did you know that?”

“…thanks?”

“You’re very welcome. Now tell me what you did.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything.”

“Uh-huh. Which is why you’re sulking to a degree that your sixteen-year-old self would be impressed by.”

“I’m not sulking!”

“Zuko.” Aang gave him an amused look. “You suck at lying.”

“Ughhh. I know. I hate it.”

“What? The fact that you’re a terrible liar?”

“No. I just hate lying in general.”

“Great. Then don’t. Problem solved.” Aang smiled. “Wow, I’m getting more efficient at these little therapy sessions.”

Zuko mustered the hardest glare that he had the energy to throw in Aang’s direction. Somehow though, he didn’t think it came across as very menacing.

“So, what did you lie to her about?”

“Does keeping a state secret count as lying?”

“Oof.” Aang gave him a look of sympathy.

“Yeah.”

“So, this is purely political?”

“Mhm.”

“Then why are you worried? Katara will understand. She knows how this stuff works. She knows she can’t be involved in everything.”

“Well that’s kind of the problem. It does involve her.”

“A political problem. That involves Katara. But you can’t tell her about,” Aang summarized. “Hm. That’s pretty weird. Are you sure you’re not leaving anything out?”

“Nope…”

“Spirits, you’re a bad liar. Out with it.”

Zuko smacked a hand to his forehead. Pinching the bridge of his nose wouldn’t cut it in this situation. No, this was a full five-alarm fuck-up that required the fullest expression of frustration.

“You know the Shen Lin massacre?”

“Of course. Fourteen down. One to go, right? You’re doing a great job, by the way.”

“We know who number fifteen is.”

“That’s great! How is this a problem?”

“It’s Tori.”

“Oh…” Aang said, slowly and then more suddenly, “OH! She doesn’t know?”

“She knows…something. But she doesn’t know that.”

Aang was as quick as ever to piece together a situation and fill in the gaps. “I see. And so, your government is using her to trap Tori.”

Zuko made an affirmatory noise.

But there was one gap he couldn’t fill and couldn’t understand the solution until he did. “I see… and your role in all this? Besides approving it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that sounds easy enough. Katara can do it. And your officers can handle the rest from there. Why do you need to be here?”

“To protect her.”

“Gotcha…” Aang quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What?” Zuko asked defensively. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing…Lots of things…ugh…It’s just that…and I’m pretty sure I said this to Katara at some point, but you two are exhausting.”

“Thanks for the endorsement.”

“I didn’t say that you shouldn’t be together. Just that you still have some stuff to figure out and you’re both somehow the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Somehow, this isn’t making me feel better.”

“Okay sorry. Friend gone. Infinite-wisdom Avatar here.”

“Nooooooo…” he groaned.

“Yep, you asked for it. Now listen up, sonny.”

“Sonny???”

“Yeah, Roku’s your great-grandfather, remember? I’m Roku. Well, I can be even more Roku. Do you want me to go get him?”

“FUCK NO.”

“Good. Then shut up and listen. You’re not telling the whole truth.”

“I don’t understand why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“Exhausting…” Aang mumbled under his breath. “Alright, I’ll spell it out for you. You just said that you didn’t tell Katara what was going on here because you were trying to protect her. I have no doubt that you want to do that, but you know as well as I do that Katara can protect herself. She can kick both of our asses into next week if she wanted to.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Zuko’s mouth. “What’s your point?”

“That’s not why you didn’t tell her.”

“Then what is?”

“You’re scared of losing her,” he stated.

_I can’t lose you._ The thought rattled around his head, rendering every other rational thought useless.

“Did Katara ever tell you what I told her that last time we were all together in Caldera City?”

“No?”

“Figures. I get no respect with you people.” He punched him lightly in the arm, something he had picked up from Toph. “I told her that she needed to let go.”

“Let go of what?”

“For her, it was the past. She needed to let go of her past. She needed to forgive herself for the mistakes she had made. And she had to ask you to do the same.”

“I did forgive her.”

“I know. Well done.”

“Why do I feel like that was facetious?”

“Because you’re being an idiot.”

“How? I did forgive her. I’m not bothered by our past.”

“No, but you are scared of your future.”

“I—”

“Yep. There we go. I’m right. You can pay me in fruit pies, hugs, or vacations. I also accept banquets in my honor, but you’ve got to make sure there are enough vegetarian options…”

“Has anyone ever thanked you for your wisdom?”

“Nope! Would yo—"

“Good.”

“Alright, alright,” Aang said, holding his hands out in supplication. “I’m sorry. I’ll be serious. Look, Zuko. Katara was hung up on the past. That was holding you back from each other. She let it go and that was great. But now you’re hung up on the future and you’re letting that hold you back.”

“I’m scared, Aang.”

“I know. And I’m pretty sure she knows that too.”

“I know she knows. She’s too smart. I can’t hide anything from her.”

“Ideally, you shouldn’t have to. You need to trust her.”

“I want to...”

“Let go.”

“Huh?”

“Let go of your fear. I know why this is hard for you. Everything you’ve been through in your life makes this hard for you. It makes a lot of sense that this would be the thing that comes hardest for you. And it’s okay that it’s hard. But you have to find a way through it. Let go of the fear. It will be replaced with something better than you can imagine.

You have to trust her not to hurt you. Otherwise, you’ll always be holding yourself back. That’s no way to love someone. I know it’s terrifying to put that much faith in someone, but that’s the best thing about it. Your faith is rewarded with the most intimate bond that you can have with someone. You know that they can ruin you if they want to. But they don’t want to. They never would. Because they feel the exact same about you.

So, let all go. So comes love.”

* * *

* * *

APPARENTLY END NOTES ARE CAPPED AT 5000 CHARACTERS, SO I HAD TO PUT THEM HERE AFTER THE CHAPTER.

Author's notes:

When I have a hard time writing this story, the thing that helps me is remembering that plot is driven by character development. Not the other way around. This is an emotionally driven story. The emotions and development of our characters is what matters here. I try to think back to what I said a little while ago: this story is me throwing these characters into a situation and seeing how they would respond. So, there we go. This story is ultimately about how people react to life. How do they act under pressure? What changes? What doesn’t? Once I got back to that idea, my writer’s block cleared.

Okie dokes, actual notes for this chapter:

1\. Katara trusts Zuko because she is letting herself be vulnerable to him. She knows full well how devastatingly bad it would be if he broke her trust, but she has faith that he won’t. She’s seen him in a million different lights and she trusts what he has gone through, who he has become, etc. She trusts him. And she knows something is up. And she chooses to trust him anyway. Not because she’s dumb. But because she knows that this is their final roadblock. Remember how Zuko knew that he needed to forgive Katara for the past for them to move forward? Well here’s the mirror. Katara knows that she needs to trust Zuko for them to move forward. They get each other. Even when they don’t know that they do. It’s yet another example of their duality.

And Katara takes it another step further. She doesn’t push Zuko to reciprocate right away. She understands why this is so difficult for him. So, she just waits. And it stings her a little to know that he doesn’t trust her to not hurt him. But she tries not to take it personally. She knows there’s a whole lifetime of issues at play here. So, she does the brave thing: she stays vulnerable. She tells him that she trusts him and that she isn’t going anywhere. She gives him the space to figure things out and promises that she’ll be there when he needs her.

2\. Tori actually used Katara in sort of a similar way to how she used him. They both use each other to escape their pasts or run away from their mistakes. They use each other to try and create a reality in which they didn’t fuck up. (Which only ends up fucking up their lives more, so there’s the moral of the story—don’t do that.) It’s always best to admit mistakes when they occur and seek to restore honor. ;)

Katara used Tori for companionship – she needed someone, anyone, just another human to temper her misery. Tori was escapism for her in trying to deny that she screwed up with Zuko. Katara used Tori to pretend that she didn’t make a huge mistake when she left Zuko. (AGAIN not that leaving was the mistake, but the way in which she left was the mistake.) She uses Tori to try and get everything she wants – the one she loves and her life’s calling. We know this doesn’t work, but that is how Katara uses Tori. Tori is a band-aid over the festering wound of Katara’s broken heart.

Tori, on the other hand, uses Katara to run away from his past. He tries to build something with her so that he can pretend his past never happened. He is trying to be someone new. And he recognizes that Katara is doing something similar – using him to try and forget or replace something. So, he can’t really blame her. It’s a mutually horrible relationship. And after everything that Tori has done in his life, he figures that this is good enough. So what if she doesn’t love him? She’s with him, isn’t she?

So, who goes and fucks this all up for him? Not only is it someone very visible (Zuko’s a public figure) but someone who has ruined his life already (at least according to Tori). So yeah, he’s hellbent on revenge. It’s honestly not even about Katara that much. It’s about Zuko having a hand in destroying the life that Tori had. (Even though Zuko didn’t do anything wrong when it comes to Katara and even though Zuko is being just and fair in pursuing Tori as a war criminal. At the end of the day, from Tori’s perspective, the reason that his life sucks so much is Zuko Zuko Zuko. So, he’s pissed. [And YES of course Tori should have the introspection to realize that no one is responsible for his mistakes other than him but he’s a fucked-up human so he’s not always the smartest. He’s also a character in a story and characters exist to show us all sorts of different ways of doing things. So, is Tori doing things the “right” way? NOPE. But is he doing them in a way that many people might by being angry and vengeful and jealous? YES. He doesn’t exist to be a morally righteous character or to show the reader a healthy way of dealing with things. He exists to challenge our main characters.])

3\. The moon glowing behind Katara’s head like a crown. :D I really love this imagery. It’s so magical. So natural but so very regal. So very Katara. Anyway, what is moonlight? Light reflected from the sun. The moon shines because of the sun. This is me playing with the whole counterpart/balance/yin and yang thing. But I was also inspired by this quote:

A soulmate is not one who completes you.

No, a soulmate is someone who inspires you to complete yourself.

A soulmate is someone who loves you with so much conviction and so much heart

That it is nearly impossible to doubt

Just how capable you are

Of becoming exactly who you have always wanted to be.

This is the idea that two people are exactly that: two people. But the magic happens when those two independent people choose to enter into one union. They’ll always be two people. But they build something together. And they build themselves up in the process.

The moon is beautiful by herself. A mystical, celestial being. But when does she glow? What enhances what is already so beautiful about her? The sun.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that you should never lose yourself when you love someone. You’ll always be your own person and they’ll always be their own person. That’s a good thing. You make each other better. You make each other stronger. You support each other. To do this, you have to be open and vulnerable. It’s terrifying and exhilarating. You have to trust. And when you do, you become a better version of yourself.

4\. The end of Katara’s conversation with Tori is a call-back to Zuko’s thoughts in Ten. (It’s also a callback to Zuko’s philosophy in general that Katara has recently been picking up on by spending time with him. We see in the series that Zuko himself is never really interested in an authoritarian type of power. His whole arc is kicked off by him caring about other people. His philosophy is much more peaceful.)

In Ten, I wrote, “Zuko knew that kindness wasn’t weakness. He knew that sometimes it took more strength to love than to hate.” And then in Five, the aftermath, this idea is nicely summarized by the Rupi Kaur poem, “To be soft is to be powerful.” Zuko uses this idea to be vulnerable with Katara by forgiving her.

And the best thing is that Katara is learning! Changing! Seeing these things and adapting herself to what she thinks is best. She’s not bending to Zuko’s will. She is seeing an idea that she likes and is adopting it into her own life. Using her own judgement and applying it in her own way. There’s their duality again. They’re two independent people who happen to be incredibly in sync. (EVEN WHEN THEY’RE BEING DUMB AND DON’T REALIZE IT)

5\. Katara loves this idea. Once she learned it, she thinks this idea is so important. It’s the answer to everything she’s been building toward. Katara has never had a hard time being kind and generous to people. But she has had a hard time letting people in. She doesn’t really open that much during the series. In doing so, she keeps herself protected. She doesn’t tell people that it bothers her to be seen only as the “mom-friend.” She doesn’t get a lot of opportunity to explore her grief. She just…really doesn’t get the chance to be soft and raw and vulnerable during the series. And I’m not saying that she automatically assumes a hard exterior as an over-correction for this. No, it’s more nuanced than that. The rawest Katara we see during the series is in the Southern Raiders and it is so cathartic for her. So, here is another chance for her to be raw, albeit under very different circumstances.

So, she lets it guide her. That’s why Katara seems to be farther ahead than Zuko in this chapter. She’s at peace with the idea that love requires letting go of fear. It’s more than just making yourself happy. You’ve got to be willing to do things for your partner. She’s learning that she can be soft. And that doesn’t make her any less strong. It actually makes her stronger. Because by being soft and vulnerable, she lets him in. She trusts him and she loves him.

Zuko has half of this idea down. He knows the philosophy but he’s having trouble applying it to Katara because for him, it’s the ultimate leap. So, he knows what he needs to do. But he’s having such a hard time doing it. That’s why he’s such a mopey mess. He loves Katara but isn't allowing himself to trust her.


	14. Four, there's nothing more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all, I have a very serious question for you:
> 
> Do you trust me?

* * *

* * *

_I always thought the words “and then”  
_ _Were the prelude to something wonderful.  
_ _“And then the sun rose.”  
_ _"And then you kissed me.”_

 _I never knew the words “and then”  
_ _Could be followed by  
_ _Something that would make me  
_ _Snuff out the flame,  
_ _Let the world plunge into darkness,  
_ _My eyes burned from the blinding catastrophe of your “and then.”_

 _And then the darkness settled  
_ _And then it stayed.  
_ _And there were no more  
_ _“And then’s”_

* * *

* * *

Zuko picked his way through the jungle, a much more difficult task at night. After he and Aang had finished the delivery, he had asked in town where Katara had gone and he’d been pointed in this direction.

The moon was high in the sky shining with all its might. But beneath the canopy of trees, its light reached not more than a few dappled spots on the damp earth.

The wet leaves muffled his footsteps as he walked, but he broke the silence with a string of mumbled curses as he tripped over a rock.

Those mumbled curses turned into a shout when a rope of water suddenly snaked its way around his ankles and took his feet out from under him.

“Back for more?” Katara said with a viciousness that he’d never heard in her voice before.

“Katara!” he shouted as he watched her wind up again. “Wait! It’s me!”

“Zuko?” The tightness around his ankles disappeared instantly. “What are you doing out here?”

“Looking for you,” he said, rubbing his knees where he’d fallen hard against the ground.

“By stumbling around the forest?” she asked sarcastically.

“Well you know me. Always trying to sneak up on you. Doesn’t seem to work out for me, though.” He stood and brushed himself off.

Katara breathed a laugh. “I’m sorry. In the dark, I thought you were Tori. You guys…” she paused and a strange expression crossed her face. “…look alike.”

“Do we?”

“A little bit,” she admitted. “Same height. Same hair color. Although yours is longer now,” she said, reaching for him and tucking a loose strand back into place.

He smiled down at her, but her eyes remained glazed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, brushing past him. She started in the direction back toward town.

“Katara, wait. Please.”

She stopped.

“I want…” he started, but the words would not come. “This is all…” he tried, but that wasn’t right either.

She turned back to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Shhh…” she soothed. “It’s alright. Relax.” And he did. Slightly. “Breathe with me.” She inhaled an exaggerated breath in and held it until he did the same.

She led them through a few cycles until he no longer felt like a bowstring about to snap.

“Better?”

He nodded. “I want to talk.”

She regarded him cautiously, slowly, as though not quite believing what he had said. But, in silent acknowledgement, she took him by the hand and led them through the forest. The trees gave way after a few minutes and they stepped into a clearing bathed in pale moonlight.

“Oh,” Zuko said quietly, taken aback by the beauty. He slipped off his cloak and laid it on the ground for them to sit on. He patted the space beside him and Katara settled by his side.

“So.”

“So,” she echoed.

“You found Tori?”

“I did. Well, he found me actually.”

“Did you talk about why he hasn’t been reaching out to anyone?”

“No. Actually, we talked about you, mostly.”

Zuko stiffened. “What about me?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Or intermediately. Or even after a long while.

“Katara?” he asked after what had to have been several minutes.

“He’s, uh… not a fan of yours.”

Zuko huffed a laugh. “Nor am I his.”

“Still jealous, huh?” she poked him lightly in the side.

He thought about getting offended. Felt it for half a second, then let the feeling dissipate. He rolled his eyes melodramatically at her and she laughed.

“It really was nothing, you know,” she said, letting her voice sober.

“Katara, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t. But I want to.”

“Alright.” He laced his fingers with hers. “If that’s what you want, I’m listening.”

“It’s kind of funny.” she started. “I never really realized how much you two look alike until just now. I think there are a lot of things that I haven’t realized until very recently. Like exactly how messed up that whole thing was. I was just…” she trailed off.

“Desperate?” Zuko ventured.

Katara sighed. “Yeah. It honestly didn’t start out as anything. He really was just my assistant. But then, when you and I stopped talking, I just…I don’t know. Shut down. I felt like there was this big hole in my heart. And nothing I did made it better. But it hurt so much that I had to do something. So, I tried to fill that void with the only thing that I could at the time…and that was Tori.”

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I felt the same thing. Only, I didn’t try to fill that hole. I tried to board it up and pretend that it didn’t exist.”

“It didn’t work did it?” Her eyes were watery.

“You know as well as I do.”

“I guess…I just want you to know that there was never anything for you to be jealous of. I messed up so, so, so bad. I used him. I hurt you. Somehow I managed to do both of those things entirely separately yet simultaneously.” Tears gathered along her lashes, yet unfallen, and glittered in the moonlight. “Talented, aren’t I?” she asked weakly.

“Katara,” he said, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “You don’t need to feel guilty about this. This is old. It’s over. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He was struck with a sudden and overwhelming need to kiss away her sadness. Katara wasn’t meant for tears. She was meant for the flash of her brilliant smile and the dark mischief that danced behind her eyes when she was about to strike in a sparring match. She was meant for the laughter that took flight from her voice and graced every person it met with a tiny burst of joy. She was meant for groggy giggles in the morning when he tickled her awake with a kiss on her ribs. She was meant for the perfect sounds she made when they made love. She was meant for everything good in this world.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to draw her to him and cradle her in his arms and shield them both from everything outside of their little world.

But the world wasn’t little. And no amount of wishing would make it so. And she needed to know exactly what it was that made Zuko’s world so dark and vast and interminably frightening. She needed to know what the last board that he still had nailed over that old hole in his heart was made of. She’d pried off all the others with a crowbar made of her special brand of tenacity. But the remaining one was one that not Katara, not Aang, not Uncle, not the Spirits themselves could touch. It was one that Zuko needed to tear down himself.

He knew what he needed to tell her. He knew what he wanted to tell her. And yet, half of his mind whispered, _stay._ He let his body lean into hers ever so slightly, seeking her comfort, seeking to live a little longer in the world where she was still here, where she might still be his.

_Coward! Say something,_ the other half of his mind urged. He tried to force the words out, but his mouth would not cooperate.

“Then, what?” The words bubbled out of her, urgent and miserable at once.

“What do you mean?”

“If it’s not that—if you’re not jealous, then what is it? Why have you been so secretive? Why did Tori tell me that you’re not here for me?” Her tears came more quickly now, dripping down her cheeks and off the tip of her nose.

When he didn’t answer, when he couldn’t answer, she spoke again. “I’m trying, Zuko. I really am. I meant everything I said. I do trust you. And I’ll wait until you’re ready…” she sniffled. “I’ll wait.”

Katara wasn’t meant for tears, he thought. She was meant to receive the love she gave.

*_*_*_*_*

Tori struggled against his icy restraints. The ice was too thick to break with the strength of his arms and legs alone. He curled his lip in anger as he heated his limbs against his bindings and felt the resistance drip, drip, drip away until it was nothing and he could burst through it with a simple flex of his muscles. The remaining ice broke away in little shards and he directed a wave of fire in their general direction, evaporating each and every one of them.

He turned his attention to the direction Katara had departed in and heard voices in the distance.

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko fiddled with the grass, plucking up bunches in nervous little motions.

“In your time together, how much did Tori tell you about his past?” His speech was rushed, words crammed together as if they were something distasteful that he couldn’t hold in any longer.

“What?” That was most definitely not an answer to the question she had asked. It wasn’t even an answer. She wiped the tears from her eyes.

But she had just promised that she would be as patient as he needed. And she was true to her word. She corrected herself, “Not very much. But, to be honest, I didn’t ask about very much. And if I’m really honest,” she said, copying him and ripping blades of grass, “I didn’t care to know.”

“I guess that’s a good thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…that it’s better that you didn’t think he was a saint or something.”

“Oh Spirits, no. Not a saint by a long shot. But he was always willing to help. He was very kind to me. Well, that is, until he wasn’t.”

Zuko said nothing. She realized after a moment that he was waiting for her to clarify.

“Things were fine when I left three months ago. But then I got a letter from him a little while ago.”

“You got a letter from him?!”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Why would I tell you? What difference does it make?” She felt her temper rising in response to his reaction.

“I needed to—” he started, but stopped abruptly. He changed his tone from anger-panic to resignation. “I just wish you had told me.”

“You’re not really in a good position to preach to me about secret-keeping right now, Zuko.”

He looked at her pleadingly. But no. She wasn’t giving him this one. She crossed her arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding very much like he meant it. “But, the letter? What did it say?”

“Nothing really. It was just insulting me. And you. And telling me that everyone here hates me now because of the funding cut.”

Zuko’s good eye went wide. “Why would he insult you?” he asked carefully.

She gave him an annoyed look. “Are you asking me to read his mind? I really don’t know. I just know that he hates me,” she said. “And you.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “And why is that?”

“I don’t know!” she said, exasperated by his reticence. “At first I thought he was just angry that I left. But that doesn’t make sense because he didn’t seem to care back in Ba Sing Se. He didn’t really seem to care who it was that I was leaving for. So, I don’t understand why, but as soon as he found out it was you, he flipped. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s so unlike him.”

“People can be deceiving.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” he sighed, still picking at the grass. He plucked a flower. “That people are not always who you think they are.”

A thousand possibilities flashed in her mind. Her thoughts swirled and wove themselves into the fabric of a nightmare in a matter of seconds. As they raced through her mind, she hated each one more than the last. She retched in her throat at the possibilities.

“Katara?” he asked gently and the image of the man beside her with his worried brow and his sorrowful eyes and his look of genuine concern did not at all match the images that were running through her head. Those were made of malice and betrayal and lies and everything she knew he wasn’t. She made a pained sound as her thoughts and reality crashed together in a violent collision, forming an uncomfortable hybrid of not wanting to be naïve but wanting to trust him. An unstable state of being so terrified that she had given him her heart and he didn’t know what to do with it but being so hopelessly twisted up in him that she thought, “keep it anyway.” A precarious balance between “I need you to tell me” and “You need me to wait.”

“Hey. Come back to me,” he said, squeezing her hand and showing her something in front of her face.

She blinked slowly, registering the tickle of a sweet scent in her nose.

“For you,” he said, holding a small flower in front of her. From a single stem blossomed a chain of delicate, white bell-shaped flowers.

“Thank you,” she said taking it with shaking hands. She twirled the stem in her fingers, admiring it. It smelled of morning dew and spring and possibilities.

“I’m sorry,” he said, watching her play with the flower.

“For what?”

“For not being honest with you.”

Her eyes were firmly fixed on the delicate bells that swayed with the ministrations of her hand. “I don’t want you to be sorry.” She let the rest of her implication hang in the air between them.

*_*_*_*_*

Tori moved carefully through the forest, following the distant sound of conversation until it led him to a parting of the trees and a pair of figures illuminated by moonlight talking quietly between themselves, oblivious to everything but the other.

He almost didn’t recognize Katara for the look on her face was nothing he’d ever seen before. She sat with her legs stretched out, crossed at her ankles, supporting herself with a hand behind her. She looked tranquil, toying with a weed in her hand.

Beside her sat the bane of Tori’s existence. The self-righteous prick who he had never had the pleasure of actually meeting. He’d only been tormented by him from afar. Forced into a life of hiding for years because of him.

He had hated Zuko since he first learned of his persecution. But the years had dulled some of his anger and Tori had learned to live with it. He could live out his life quietly, leave the past where it belonged, and build something new with Katara. Even if all he could build was a house of straw, it was something. It may have been a ramshackle thing made of a fake name and a woman who never cried out that fake name when they fucked. It may have been glued together by lies, but it was his.

And then _he_ took Katara. And then _he_ took his last lick of freedom. Tori knew the second that those soldiers – _his_ soldiers acting on _his_ orders – recognized him as a Firebender that everything would collapse.

*_*_*_*_*

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Katara said. She looked serene, painted in the dark blues of moonlight. “I just want you to be honest with me.” She held the flower loosely between her forefinger and thumb and as he watched it dangle, he wondered what she would do with it.

“That’s what I want too.”

She looked at him questioningly, waiting. His courage wavered.

“I don’t know where to start,” he admitted.

“At the beginning.”

So, he did. He told her the story of Shen Lin and how his army officers had been hunting the fifteen soldiers who had murdered those villagers in cold blood. He told her how much people liked the Fire Nation’s pursuit of its own criminals. He told her how his council was adamant about finishing the job. If she was surprised by the sudden launch into politics, she didn’t show it. Just tucked the flower into her tunic and drew her knees to her chest.

He told her how he had gone to the village that morning and about the woman he had met.

“So, when I found you in the forest, about to be eaten by wolf-panthers, it was because you were sneaking out to go on a field-trip alone?”

He offered her the most apologetic smile he could. “Would it help if I told you that it was life-changing?”

“It better have been. Because so far, I don’t see why you felt the need to keep any of this secret.”

“Right…that part,” Zuko said uncomfortably. “This is all connected to why I had to stop funding the projects.”

Katara furrowed her brow in confusion.

“The last member of that platoon – the only person we haven’t caught yet – is here. And they’re a part of your reconstruction effort.”

*_*_*_*_*

Tori listened carefully from his hiding spot at the edge of the clearing. He rolled his eyes when Zuko said that he had gone to Shen Lin. _Of course, he did_ , Tori thought. _Self-righteous little shit._

Tori struggled as he listened to Zuko recount the story of Shen Lin. Tori could recall in perfect detail everything that had happened that day. He could still see the fear shining in the eyes of the village children as the platoon marched in. He could still hear the clamour of earthbending as the four villagers on the transport cart attempted to escape and the shouted order from his commanding officer, “Stop them!” He could still place himself among the chaos and confusion of the ensuing scuffle where one Earthbender had gotten too close and had suffered Tori’s army-trained reaction to shoot first and ask questions later. And he could still feel the kick in his back from his commanding officer when he hesitated for a moment staring at the execution line-up of three innocent people.

“Do I need to repeat myself, soldier?” the CO had said.

“No, sir.”

“Then unless you want to get in line too, follow orders. Kill them.”

Yes, Tori remembered everything about that day. The heat in his hands. The stench of burnt flesh and scorched earth. The wailing. Tori knew all of these things.

Zuko knew none of them. He wasn’t there. He didn’t know.

Yet there he sat, prattling on.

Tori was spiraling into a rage that he knew not even the cover of darkness would conceal. He moved away slowly, careful to avoid snapping a twig or crunching a leaf.

*_*_*_*_*

Katara didn’t look shocked. She didn’t look confused. She didn’t look anything. She just stared back at Zuko blankly.

“You’re telling me,” she said slowly, “that someone that I have worked with for years is a war-criminal. And that they managed to evade you and trick me for years? Did I get that right?”

He knew sarcasm when he heard it, but he answered in earnest. “Yes. You did more than just work with them.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Zuko shot a silent prayer up to the sprits, the universe, karmic forces, or whatever the fuck could help him in this moment.

“It’s Torikae.”

A beat.

Two beats.

Three.

Four.

A wretched laugh came from Katara’s direction and Zuko’s head snapped to look at her because that sound, that mad, horrible sound, could not be belong to her.

It did.

His heart sunk. In his already frantic mind, he tried to cobble together some way to redact what he had said. She didn’t believe him. And this was the beginning of the end.

“You,” she said, breathless, “are telling me that Tori, my Tori—”

Zuko winced.

“—the Tori that I knew for years, is a fugitive? And that he killed those people in Shen Lin? That there was a murderer right under my nose and I was none the wiser? That the person who helped me build some of the things that I am most proud of is a war-criminal?”

“I mean…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Those are all ways of saying the same thing.”

She glared at him.

“But yes,” he said quickly. Her glare did not soften but she at least redirected it straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“How do you know?” she said through clenched teeth.

Zuko started ticking off his reasons. “We’ve been gathering information for months. We’ve interviewed all the other people who were there that day. He fits the description perfectly. He was hiding after the war.”

“Hiding? He was with me. How is that hiding?”

“Hiding in plain sight,” he corrected.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you’d be angry.”

“Astute prediction,” she said flatly.

_I thought you’d be angry at me._

He studied her carefully, trying to peer inside her mind, trying to understand what she was thinking. But all he could see was the tension in her body, the clench of her jaw, and the rhythmic tapping of her fingers against each other. Then there was a sudden change in the air and hundred tiny pin pricks of ice against his skin and a thousand tiny crystals of ice suspended in the air between them, sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight.

She had bent the humidity out of the air, he realized, droplet by droplet and frozen them in an incredible display of not power, but precision. Zuko was utterly and totally mesmerized.

“So now what?” she said and whether it was too quiet for him to hear or he was too captivated by her bending, he didn’t answer her. She stopped tapping her fingers.

And then the spell was broken.

“Master Katara!” someone called from across the clearing. Zuko squinted into the darkness and found a figure sprinting toward them. They both sprang to their feet.

The aviary master huffed and puffed his way over to her, stopping to catch his breath as he came upon them.

“Master Katara, I am sorry to intrude. And Fire Lord Zuko, I presume? This just arrived for you, sir, on a black-ribbon hawk.” He held a rolled-up message out in his hands.

Who would be writing to him? Urgently? Katara reached out to take the message, but Zuko stopped her.

“Who are you?” Zuko eyed the man suspiciously.

“Zuko, it’s okay,” Katara said, pushing past him. “I know him. He keeps the hawks that serve this area.” She took the message from his hands and handed it to Zuko. “But, I didn’t know you also delivered them.”

“I don’t, Master Katara. But black-ribbon messages are special protocol.”

“How did you know where I was?” Zuko demanded, still unconvinced.

“I-I-I,” the aviary master stammered, “was making my way back into town to look for you when I heard voices. Just good luck, I guess.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes and turned to Katara. “You know this man?”

“Yes. I’ve known him for a long time. He’s okay, Zuko. Trust me.”

Zuko grumbled and kept his eyes on the aviary master as he shuffled away. Only once he was out of sight did Zuko unroll the paper.

_New intelligence. Need to re-strategize ASAP._

“We need to go.” Zuko said, picking up his cloak from the ground and hurrying out of the clearing.

“Where?” Katara asked, bounding behind him.

“I need to send a message back. Can you go ask your friend for his fastest hawk?”

“More secrets, Zuko?” she said, sullenly.

He stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, grabbing her roughly. He crashed his lips onto hers and swallowed her squeak of surprise. He kissed her fiercely and she melted into it. He was insistent, swiping his tongue over her bottom lip, demanding entrance. She obeyed immediately, parting her lips for him and moaning deeply when he licked into her mouth. He cradled her face with his hands, keeping her exactly where he wanted her as he poured every emotion, every worry, every fear into the kiss. She was lax in his grip, clutching at his back for support, surging and falling only in response to him. All at once, he felt the familiar ache in his heart turn sharp. And this too, he gave her. She responded in kind, meeting his every movement with an assuredness that gave him more comfort that he thought possible from a simple kiss.

But it wasn’t a simple kiss. With Katara it never was. Every kiss, every touch was underlined by the need for more, the urge to make up for lost time, a burning passion that Zuko now realized was fear by another name.

This kiss, though, that he had started and she had transformed, was his new declaration. No more hiding; no more guarding what was safe in her hands.

When he finally broke away, he had to catch her around the waist to keep her from falling. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, lips reddened and kiss-swollen and practically begging for one more. “No, my love,” he said, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. “No more secrets.”

He smoothed the wrinkles he had pressed into her tunic, letting his hand linger between her breasts for no reason other than to feel her heartbeat.

“Get the hawk and meet me back in town. I’ll send off what I need to and then I’ll explain everything. And after that,” he tipped his head back to see the moon high in the sky, “we should get some sleep.”

*_*_*_*_*

“Did they believe you?”

“The man was suspicious of me, but Master Katara vouched for me.”

“We can always count on her, can’t we?” Tori smirked.

The aviary master looked confused but did not press. He instead said, “I have done as you instructed. I followed your orders to the letter. Please let me go.”

“Followed orders, huh?” Tori repeated, slow and wistful.

“Please,” the aviary master pleaded.

“Of course.” Tori stepped to the side to allow the man to pass. “I’m not a monster. I don’t punish the innocent.”

The aviary master backed away slowly, fearfully before turning to run.

_The guilty however,_ Tori thought as he watched him run, _are another matter entirely._

*_*_*_*_*

Katara looked over the birds, trying to assess their speed by ...the color of their feathers? …the sharpness of their talons? …the look in their eye? She had no idea what she was doing or what she was looking for and the aviary master was nowhere to be found. She held a torch in her hand, inspecting the birds, guessing which one was fastest.

As she held out her arm for a hawk to hop onto, the door opened, and her torch went out. The room plunged into blackness. She whipped around to face a hooded figure, silhouetted against the moonlight.

“Zuko?” She knew that was wrong. She knew in the same instant that the hawk squawked, and she felt a burning hand grab her wrists, binding them together.

Horror blossomed in her chest as Tori tightened his hold on her. She kneed him hard in the groin and he stumbled backward with a grunt.

She pulled a stream of water from her waterskin and snapped it at him, hitting him hard. He growled and threw a directed line of fire in her direction, evaporating the water she had. She uncorked her other waterskin and molded it into a projectile. She launched it at him with all her strength but he responded with a wall of fire so intense and uncontrolled that it raged forward, not only consuming her water in a sizzling display of fury, but reaching far enough to burn her palms as tried to stretch them out in front of her, protectively.

Katara stifled a cry of pain as her skin blistered. Her waterskins were empty and there was no source of water close by.

Tori stood over her. “Mercy?” he taunted and wound a corded rope roughly around her hands. It scraped at her burned skin as she fought against it.

“Fuck off!” she screamed, thrashing as he tied a knot.

“Feisty,” he said, pulling her to her knees with the rope. It dug into her reddened skin and tears of pain stung at her eyes. “You know I like you that way.”

“If you so much as touch me,” she spat, yanking her hands away suddenly and whipping the end of the rope out of Tori’s hands, “I will impale a shard of ice so deep in your throat that you will drown in your own blood. Your death will be so long and miserable that you will beg for mercy. But, you won’t be able to speak for every word that dribbles out of your pathetic mouth will be nothing more than a gurgle.”

Tori blinked a few times, slightly stunned. He stared at the rope burn on his hands and then at the actual burns on her hands. “Where was all that passion when we were together, Katara?”

“Fuck. Off.” She struggled against her restraints, the rough rope stinging her raw skin as she tried to get enough leverage to slip free.

Tori chuckled darkly and sat across from her, seemingly unthreatened. He held both ends of the rope in one hand and he watched with amusement as her frustration built.

“So, he told you about me, huh?” he said, conversationally, as if over afternoon tea.

Katara stopped struggling for a second. “It’s true?”

Tori shrugged.

“You lied to me!” Her scream pierced the quiet night.

“Only by omission.”

“That’s still lying!” she shouted. “And even so, that’s not even the point. I can’t believe I trusted you! After everything you’ve done. You’re a monster!”

“I’m a monster for following orders and acting in my own self-interest?” His voice was eerily calm, a sharp contrast to Katara’s shouts.

“Yes!”

“Hmmm…” Tori mused. “Well then, it seems you like monsters.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I thought lover boy told you everything?”

“He—” Katara stopped short. _He hasn’t yet,_ her mind supplied, but she shoved the thought away.

“He what, Katara? Did what people told him to do and left you out of all of it? Acted completely on self-interest?”

“No!”

Tori scoffed. “You’re naïve, Katara. But, what do I care? Believe whatever you want. I just think you deserve to know the truth. And Spirits know you’re not going to get it from him.”

At his words, Katara could practically see the metaphorical puppet strings wound around Tori’s fingers as much as she could see the literal rope he held in his hands. She was so tired. So tired, in fact, she could almost imagine those same strings wound around Zuko’s fingers, playing her. But, no.

_No. No. No._

She knew better. She had learned better.

_He wouldn’t._

Would he?

_He wouldn’t._

…would he?

“I don’t understand something,” Katara said, pushing the thought from her mind and changing the subject.

“What’s that?”

“Why did you keep sending proposals? Why did you send me that letter? If it was all a lie, why bother making it seem like you were actually going to do any of the work?”

A wretched, condescending smile spread across Tori’s face. “Two things. One, I actually was going to do the work. I fully planned on just living out my life. I was fine with the way things were until His Royal Righteousness had to go and ruin everything.

Two, once that ship had sailed, I had to keep up appearances. Didn’t want to tip off the royal sack of shit that I was on to him. And the letter – well I had to rile you up enough to get you out here. And it worked. I know how to push your buttons, Katara. And I know that all I had to say was that there was something wrong with your precious projects and you’d come running.”

“But there was something wrong – the funding cut.”

Tori looked her up and down. He smirked at her, bound and helpless, but still projecting a confidence that only she could. “Yes, that was quite convenient. Remind me to thank Fire Lord Fuckwit for that one. It was almost like he wanted to rile you up as much as I did.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Even as the words escaped her, things began to fall together. The council meeting where the councilors were intentionally aggravating her. Zuko’s secrecy. Tori’s past.

“You can’t get too mad at me though,” Tori said, ignoring her question. “I’m not the only one around here using you as bait.”

_Bait?_

_Oh…_

_Oh no._

_._

_._

_._

_No._

_No. No. No._

_He wouldn’t._

“He wouldn’t.”

“~He wouldn’t~” Tori impersonated her in cruel mockery of her pain. “Of course he would! And the best part is, he didn’t even trust you enough to tell you the plan. You’re nothing to him, Katara.” He twisted the end of the rope in his hand, dragging it against her raw skin.

Katara felt like she’d been punched in the chest, the realization hitting her full-force and knocking the wind out of her. She gasped as everything clicked into place in her mind. It all made sense.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Tori,” she managed to say, trying to project control she did not feel, though her voice cracked, betraying her.

“You really don’t seem to know anything, Katara. But it’s cute that you think you do.”

_Cute?_

She exploded in rage, kicking her legs out from under her and striking Tori hard in the jaw. She used her bound hands to punch at his solar plexus. He fell backward with a grunt and she heard the dull _thud_ of a body collapsing. She smiled in satisfaction and got to her feet to stand over him.

He appeared unconscious when Katara looked down at him. But that only made it all the worse when his eyes flew open and he shot at her, furious and unrestrained. She stepped awkwardly backward, not expecting the sudden attack. He caught her by the ankle, sending her tumbling downward and without the ability to put her hands out to catch her, she fell and her skull connected with the floor with a sickening _crack!_

And then there was blackness.

Nothing more.

*_*_*_*_*

When Katara came back to herself, her world blurred at the edges and became a battleground wherein only one object could exist at a time. For a moment it was the hard, wooden floor. The next moment it was Tori’s boot as he kicked her lightly, checking if she was alive. And finally, her world was made only of the small green stem of white flowers that had fallen out of her tunic. She picked it up with bound hands and held it in front of her face, focusing her eyes on it, twirling it between her fingers, letting it anchor her to the earth.

Distantly above her, she heard Tori say something. And he sounded…angry? She heard another voice far away and her heart leapt at the sound, but she didn’t know why.

_Pretty flower_ , she thought, and then there was chaos around her.

_Loud noises,_ she thought, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would block out the sound.

“Katara!”

_Yes?_

More loud noises.

“Katara!”

_What??_

A crash. Something cold and sharp against her wrists and her hands were being moved.

_No, don’t take my flower._

“Katara…”

Her hands were free to move. She picked up the flower.

The roar of flames. A thud.

She was being pulled somewhere. Her vision spun sickeningly for several moments before it steadied long enough for her eyes to focus.

Katara could just barely make out the figure across the room, the familiar shape of him.

_Zuko._

And behind her, the thing that had been pulling her, she realized, was Tori.

_Tori._

And in her hand, a thin stem with tiny white bell-shaped flowers, one or two or three or four just barely hanging on.

She gathered her strength and lifted her head to meet Zuko’s eyes. He stared back, body statuesquely still but eyes frantic. She opened her hand, showing him the flower resting in her palm. She held his gaze a moment, willing him to understand.

And then she snapped it in half.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... 😅
> 
> The flower that Zuko gives Katara is a Lily of the Valley. A deeply symbolic flower, it has taken on quite a few meanings throughout history and in different cultures. In modern floriography (the language of flowers) it is most often taken to mean “the return of happiness.” It is also representative of **trust.**  
>    
> More notes:
> 
> 1\. The jungle/moon symbolism in the first scene: it is meant to be evocative of the idea that even if you love someone with all your might, they have to be willing to accept it. Katara is giving everything. Full trust. She’s the moon shining with all her might. But that fear holding Zuko back? That’s him beneath the canopy of trees. And the moonlight shines through in some places. Just enough that Zuko knows it’s there. But it’s not enough for him to see. He stumbles. So, he needs to get out of from under the canopy of trees if he wants to be able to see clearly. He’s got to let go of this fear if he wants to be able to love and be loved by Katara completely. So, they go to a clearing to have a talk.
> 
> 2\. I’m pretty sure you can figure out the rest of the flower symbolism. The way she holds it when he first gives it to her; the way she holds it after having that conversation with Tori; the flowers just barely clinging to the stem. It’s that delicate trust. So very important, yet so very fragile between them right now.
> 
> 3\. TORIKAE FUCKING SUCKS. But let’s talk about him. I never thought he would get this complicated, but I am glad he did. He was always meant to be a fake Zuko. But as we’ve seen in the last couple of chapters that he is more than just a fake Zuko in appearance. He’s got some moral dilemmas. Moral dilemma #1 – follow orders or defect. He chooses the evil option. But you can kinda see him debating it in his flashback. (Doesn’t make his decision okay, but it kinda makes you think that maybe there might be some hope for him?) Moral dilemma #2 – after the war, turn yourself in or hide from the consequences of your actions. He chooses the selfish option. But it seems like maybe he’s turned over a new leaf – he lives a simple life in the Earth Kingdom and tries to help people. It seems like he is maybe trying to be a better person. Maybe?! We don’t really know. We don’t see inside his head. We only see his actions. BUT THEN! Moral dilemma #3 – once you’ve been discovered at the tavern, turn yourself in or double down. He doubles down, throws all the maybe’s out the window, and goes full-on homicidal maniac on our asses.
> 
> Now, let’s get something straight: I’m not comparing the choices that Zuko has had to make with those that Tori has had to make. They’re not apples to apples. But, they have a similar structure. The point I am trying to get at is that both Zuko and Tori had opportunities to choose “good” or “bad” multiple times. (I know that’s an incredibly reductive way of looking at the issues, but let’s just keep it simple for now.) In addition, they both had the chance to look at themselves, to introspect, and ask “who do I want to be?” And we know what Zuko does with that. He thinks, reflects, and comes to his own conclusions. That’s why his redemption arc in the show works. And that’s why he is able to continue developing as a character in this fic. Because he’s constantly reflecting and changing.
> 
> Tori, on the other hand, never takes that opportunity to introspect. He constantly makes the wrong decision. Every time he’s at a branch point, he chooses wrong. And by the time we see him here, he is just so far gone. Irredeemable. He is always blaming someone else for his failures. He blames his CO for making him kill; he blames Zuko for ruining his ability to live a free life.
> 
> Torikae starts out vaguely bad but throughout the story, he just gets worse and worse. He keeps making terrible decisions over and over. Oh, and he’s evil. Did I mention evil? Because he’s evil.
> 
> 4\. Think about how Katara snapping that flower looks to Zuko. It looks pretty damn bad… Katara snapping the flower is Zuko’s “and then.” Yikes…
> 
> 5\. Let’s remember the conflict that we are trying to solve here. Remember I said that this is an emotionally-driven story. So, our conflict is not (and has never been) Tori. Our conflict is Zuko and Katara’s relationship. And their issue right now is Zuko’s trust issues. That’s what we are after. Tori is a sub-plot – a way to explore these issues. (And as you can tell from the above note, I decided to have a lot of fun with him. I tried to make him as interesting as possible while still having him serve my purposes.) But, yes, this story is not about war or politics or anything like that. 
> 
> This is, of course, a Zutara story. This is a story of love and hurt and forgiveness and self-discovery. **Of ruin, restoration, and rebuilding.** Don’t think I forgot, babes. I haven’t forgotten.
> 
> Trust me. I’ve got you.
> 
> ❤️🧡💛


	15. Four, except this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Lily of the Valley has a secret.

* * *

* * *

_All this time,  
_ _And all this effort,  
_ _Trying to prove  
_ _That making islands  
_ _of ourselves  
_ _Is the truest  
_ _Form of courage._

_All this time,  
_ _All this effort  
_ _Wasted._

_Bravery  
_ _Is the staring  
_ _Into another set  
_ _of eyes._

_The steady voice,  
_ _Softly spoken:  
_ _I  
_ _belong  
_ _to  
_ _you._

_-tyler knott gregson_

* * *

* * *

When Katara wasn’t back within an hour, Zuko thought it was strange.

When she wasn’t back within a few hours, Zuko was worried.

When she wasn’t back by the time first light touched the sky, he was fighting his way through the jungle, finding his way back to where he had last seen her, trying to stay out of the shadows, lest he stumble again. But his panic made that all the more difficult.

He came upon a small building and heard the creaking of floorboards. He approached silently and crept up to the door. He eased it open and peered inside the dimly lit room.

It took him a few seconds to process the scene in front of him. A heap on the floor. A figure kicking that heap. The heap has arms and legs. A groan from the heap.

“Katara.” It was nothing more than a whisper.

The figure above her turned at the sound of Zuko’s voice and growled, “Finally.”

_Torikae._ Zuko tried to corral his panic into one corner of his mind. He tried to focus on the problem in front of him. The opportunity that he now had to end this years-long search. To deliver justice to the victims at Shen Lin.

But instead of formulating a strategy, his mind screamed back at him, _Look at her; this is your fault._ Instead of mapping out his surroundings, his eyes focused on the lump that he knew to be his Katara. Instead of offering a plan, his mind simply reprimanded him, _She’s hurt because of you. You dragged her into this without her consent and she trusted you. She trusted you and look what happened._

In this moment, he wasn’t Fire Lord Zuko. And he didn’t care if he ever would be again. In this moment, he was just Zuko. The boy, the prince, the tortured teenager, the leader – he was all of those things. But none of those titles mattered as much as the only way he ever wanted to be known to her – Zuko, just Zuko.

The only thing that he cared about was lying across the room.

“Get away from her,” Zuko’s voice was low, commanding, and dangerous.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll hurt you.”

“Really?” Tori taunted, leaning over Katara’s body. “I’d like to see you try.”

Zuko couldn’t think. He knew nothing but the cold grip of fear on his heart and a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He spoke her name as a prayer to the gods, spirits, karmic forces – anything, anything, anything – to protect her.

And then he attacked. He sprang forward and Tori met him halfway. Tori struck hard at Zuko’s neck, trying for an immediate knockout. Zuko caught his arm at the last second and redirected Tori’s forward momentum to throw him to the floor. Zuko kicked him roughly in the diaphragm to ensure that he’d stay down.

He flew to Katara and took in the sight of her – limp, hands tied, barely conscious. He fought to control the rage building within him. He slipped his knife from his boot and cut her free.

Behind him, Tori was picking himself up. Zuko turned toward him, a snarl on his lips, fire in his hands. He lobbed fire blasts made of every ugly emotion he was feeling and Tori deflected each of them to either side of himself.

And then they both realized what a truly awful idea that was.

They watched in horror as fire licked its way up the wood-paneled walls of the building.

Zuko held his breath for a beat.

Two.

Thr—

It didn’t catch. The fire winked out of existence and for a blessed moment all was still.

Tori took advantage of his distraction, and knocked Zuko out of the way. He grabbed Katara roughly by the fabric of her shirt and hauled her into a sitting position. She was horribly, uncharacteristically pliant in his grip and Zuko’s stomach churned at the sight of her so battered. She would hate this, he knew. If she were awake, she would be clawing and fighting every inch of her restraint. His Katara – no – The Katara would fight her way out of this.

“Katara.” He said her name and let every bit of her color it. He said her name and it sounded like tenacity. It sounded like grace. It sounded like ferocity and gentleness. It sounded like hurt and it sounded like healing. It sounded like hope. A hope that he knew he didn’t deserve. But Agni, how he wanted it. How he wanted to deserve her.

He didn’t.

Especially not now.

But he had to try.

She stirred in Tori’s grasp and her head lolled weakly. She was trying to get her bearings and Zuko didn’t want to overwhelm her. He spoke her name again, softly, gently to tell her that he was here. That he would always be here. That he wouldn’t leave her. That he was sorry. So sorry. He tried to put all of that into the syllables of her name, but there wasn’t enough room. There weren’t enough words in the world – there wasn’t enough time in the universe – to tell her how he loved her. To tell her how he had loved her for so long. But to tell her that he wanted to love her differently from now on. And to tell her that he wanted to love her forever.

Zuko watched her fight the pain she was surely feeling. She raised her head as if she could hear his thoughts. As if to say, ‘I’ll fight through the pain.”

Her mouth moved with a short series of words that he couldn’t make out in the dim light. She opened her palm and he realized that she was showing him the flower that he had given her a few hours ago. It was wilted, its flowers barely clinging to the stem. But it was still beautiful.

She held it in both hands for a few seconds and he wondered what she was trying to say. Her blue eyes were piercing, as if she were concentrating every ounce of vitality into giving him this look. This look that made his world stop spinning and hold his breath in anticipation.

And then she snapped the flower in half.

Zuko could hardly suppress the sob that threatened to rip itself from his throat.

She mouthed something again, but his vision was blurry with tears.

_No._

_No._

_No._

_Don’t give up on me._

_I know I don’t deserve you._

_But, please._

_Please._

_Don’t give up on me._

_I didn’t mean for this to happen._

_Please believe me. I’d never betray you._

_Please trust me._

_Please, Katara._

_Please…_

“Ka…” his voice cracked. Not so much a voice cracking as a soul splitting open. “…tara.”

Torikae threw Katara from his grip and she sagged. But her eyes never left Zuko. She sat up defiantly and Zuko could tell that it took nearly all of her strength to stay upright. She mouthed something again. Something that looked like, ‘Trust.’

His heart broke.

_I know._

_I know I fucked up._

_I should have trusted you with this._

_I should have._

_I’m so sorry, Katara._

_Katara, please._

Her brow furrowed. She mouthed something that looked like ‘Trust’ again and Zuko fell deeper into the chasm of himself.

_‘I trust you,’_ she had said. She had never asked for it in return. She knew, better than he knew himself, that he couldn’t. That if she asked, he wouldn’t be able to give it to her. She knew. And still, she gave him her trust. As much as she wanted his, she never demanded it. She gave herself to him, wholly, with no caveats, no demands. Only the hope that one day he would do the same.

Zuko ripped himself apart, miserable and furious and hurting. He collapsed in on himself. But, he knew, there was something more important than his self-hatred at the moment. And so, he turned the pain of imploding into the rage of exploding.

Tori fought viciously; he didn’t hold himself back. He went for Zuko’s throat, his eyes, his groin. Zuko blocked what he could, but a few slipped through. He responded in kind, fast and furious. But with every blow, he felt farther from himself.

He focused his attention on Katara who had propped herself up against a wall. She looked exhausted, but alive. Alive enough to tap her fingers rhythmically. With both hands. She tapped her fingers together quickly but kept her eyes trained on Zuko. She mouthed something again and this time he had no idea what she was trying to say.

Zuko threw a well-aimed punch and Tori stumbled backward, dazed. Zuko circled the room and knelt in front of Katara.

“Need more time.” The words came from Katara, but they were scarcely more than a breath. He didn’t understand what they meant.

But perhaps he didn’t need to.

He placed a cautious hand on Katara, needing to touch her to make sure that she was real. That she was still here with him.

She was.

She closed her eyes at his touch. She looked like she was allowing herself to relax. But she kept tapping her fingers. And in her lap sat the broken flower. Zuko averted his eyes.

He stroked the sides of her face gently. “Are you hurt?” he whispered. She shook her head once. She mumbled something that he couldn’t make out. He soothed her, “Shhh… It’s okay.” She let him touch her; she even leaned into it. Zuko tried not to think about what that might mean or how that fit in with the broken Katara in front of him, the broken flower in her lap, or the broken everything else scattered around them.

Behind them, the creak of floorboards and slow footsteps.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Tori mocked.

Zuko could feel his blood boil. He spun to face Tori but kept himself in front of Katara. “Leave her out of this,” he growled.

“You’re one to talk.”

His fingers sparked and begged for release. He balled his fists. “I’m aware of what I’ve done. But that is between me and her. You, on the other hand,” Zuko said sharply, “are nothing more than a hinderance.”

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing at all.”

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Tori said, slowly crossing the room. “I think I’ve left my mark.”

Zuko wasn’t stupid. He knew Tori was egging him on. But he was cracking. His control was slipping.

“What the hell does that mean?”

Tori crouched next to the both of them and arrogance rolled off him in stinking waves. He reached a hand toward Katara.

“Don’t touch her.”

“Don’t touch me.”

Zuko and Katara spoke in unison, one much louder than the other, but with the same amount of venom.

Tori advanced no further. Instead he chuckled and pointed to Katara’s back. “Did she tell you how she got that scar? Did she tell you that I gave it to her?”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Thas not true,” Katara said.

She must be fighting through the haze, Zuko thought.

Her words slurred together slightly when she said, “Was an accident.”

“What happened, Katara?” He stroked the space between her shoulders, tracing along the scarred path that lay beneath the fabric.

“Is old, Zuko. Years ago.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“We were somewhere. Some meeting.”

(It was a two-year post-war summit. Aang was there. Kuei was there. Hakoda and Arnook were there. Zuko should have been there.)

“Southern Earth Kingdom provincial capitol,” Tori supplied.

(Katara didn’t need to be there. But she went anyway.)

“I got hit by some rocks.”

Zuko looked at her pointedly.

“Falling rocks,” she clarified.

He didn’t let up.

“Ceiling fell.”

Zuko gave her an incredulous look.

Tori spoke up, “She ran into a burning building and it collapsed on her.”

“Was walking. I saw a fire where there shouldn’t have been a fire. I helped. That’s it.”

“That’s not it, Katara,” Tori said.

“Shut up, Tori,” she said with as much hate as she could.

“You dragged us there because you thought _he_ would be there.” Tori jerked his chin toward Zuko. “And you didn’t just happen to be walking by. You were looking for him.”

“So what if I was? Doesn’t matter.”

“You told me he would be there,” Tori said.

(Zuko should have been there.)

(Zuko wasn’t there.)

“I thought he might have been,” Katara said, slumping against the wall again.

“It wasn’t an accident.” Zuko said, quietly. “You were both looking for me. Just for very different reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that just like everything else, Katara, you’re the last to catch on,” Tori snarked.

Something flashed in Katara’s eyes. She lifted her chin in defiance for a moment before dropping her head again. She mouthed something again, silent and subtle, and from his position closer to her now he could see the words take shape on her lips – ‘Trust me.’

_Trust you? Trust you on what, Katara?_

*_*_*_*_*

Katara’s head was throbbing. Not only from the fall and not only from having to listen to Tori’s insufferable arrogance but from the grueling effort of trying to get Zuko to understand her. She screamed inside her head every time she caught his eye, _Trust me. You know me. Don’t doubt what you know to be true._

But she could see the terror painted across his features. She was trying so hard to reach him. And he was right there. So close.

_I know you’re scared. But that’s why it’s called trust, Zuko. Trust me._

She shouted the words in her own head and hoped that some of them were being translated through the look in her eyes. She ducked her head again to ensure that Tori couldn’t see and let the words slip out once more – a silent plea – ‘Trust me.’

She watched his brow furrow. He shifted away from her slightly and she wanted so badly to reach out and shake him.

But she didn’t. Instead she rested her back against the wall, tapped her fingers, and hoped against hope.

_Let go. I’ve got you._

*_*_*_*_*

Zuko watched Katara a moment longer, waiting for her to say something else. Waiting for some other sign. He had seen something in her eyes. Something that fluttered like fear but was buoyed by the promise of understanding. She signaled the end of their silent conversation by falling back against the wall.

Zuko took a deep breath and heard Katara behind him do the same. When she exhaled, the words “distract him” curled around her breath and dissipated before he could question if they were real.

“You tried to kill me,” Zuko said, returning his gaze to Tori. “You struck in the place I should have been. And Katara was the collateral damage.”

“Yes, that was unfortunate. I do hate to see her hurt.” Tori looked her over and an emotion akin to pity crossed his face. “Poor thing.”

Zuko’s fingers sparked again and he imagined punching Tori square in the nose. Or knocking him on his ass with a fire blast so hot it burned that vile tongue of his. Or engulfing him in a tornado of fire that he’d never escape.

“Ah ah,” Tori taunted, seeing Zuko fighting the urge. “Not a good idea to firebend in here.”

Zuko glanced at Katara who shook her head once. He schooled himself into something resembling control. “Was that intentional on your part?”

“As intentional as everything else. Like the fake message tonight.”

Zuko must have looked less than impressed because Tori said with an offended tone, “She never thought much of me either. And look where that got her.”

Zuko didn’t need see Katara to imagine the look on her face right now. Her eye was probably twitching like it sometimes did when she was angry. She was probably plotting a hundred different ways to beat Tori into the ground. As justified as she was in that wish, he thought, he might very much like to join her.

“I’m sure it was a cheap shot. That is the only way you’d ever be able to touch her.”

“Oh, I’ve touched her plenty,” Tori said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

The rage was instantaneous. But Zuko took a fraction of a second to plan exactly how he was going to inflict the most pain on Tori.

Katara, evidently, did not need that fraction of a second. No sooner than the last sound had left Tori’s mouth than an ice needle impaled itself in the back of his throat.

Tori choked on something he’d never be able to relieve himself of. Katara held her hand still momentarily, willing the water to stay frozen to prolong his suffering. She watched him struggle and released the ice needle into its liquid form only to let it trickle into his lungs.

“Speaking. Of. Cheap. Shots.” Tori coughed harshly between each word.

He lunged forward at them and it was unclear if the assault was meant for Zuko or Katara. Either way, Zuko jumped to meet him to keep their violence away from Katara. Tori caught Zuko and hurled him to the floor where he landed flat on his back. Tori stood over him, put a booted foot on his chest, and elicited a pained grunt from Zuko when he pushed down hard over his sternum.

“Pathetic,” Tori sneered. “I always knew you were weak, your ma-jes-ty,” Tori said through his teeth, landing hard on that last syllable and grinding his boot over the star-shaped scar hidden beneath the layers of Zuko’s clothes. “I should have killed you years ago. It would have saved us both so much trouble. I didn’t know it would be this easy.”

Zuko’s jaw trembled as he tried to stifle a cry of pain. He tried to pinpoint a weak spot in Tori’s stance. He tried to find something to attack or something to exploit. But he found nothing. He needed help.

He rolled his head to the side and found Katara staring back at him, features strained, every muscle tense. She pulled at her skirt and raised her eyebrows as if she were asking him a question. When he didn’t respond, she mouthed one last time, ‘Trust me. I’ve got you.’

Zuko didn’t understand.

But perhaps he didn’t need to.

That’s why it’s called trust.

It’s a leap of faith. A terrifying, exhilarating thing.

And he was ready to fall, to let go.

_Now or never._

*_*_*_*_*

Katara fought to restrain herself while she watched Zuko writhe in pain under the weight of Tori’s boot. How badly she wanted to explode at him, use what she had so meticulously collected to drive a dagger through Tori’s heart. Or perhaps drown him. Or both.

But she had neither the strength nor the speed to pull off such a move. What she did have, however, was Zuko’s attention. With one hand, she lifted the fabric of her skirt slightly to reveal a decently large puddle of water hidden there. With the other hand she pressed the broken flower between her fingers. She prayed he understood. But even if he didn’t,

_Now or never, love._

She whispered to him one final reassurance. It was all she could offer. He had to be the one to take it.

*_*_*_*_*

Tori crushed a miserable sound out of Zuko and sniggered at it. “Suffer good and well, my lord. But you’re used to suffering aren’t you? Your mother abandoned you. Your father hated you. There’s no one in the world who cares about you. You’re a feeble and spineless leader, always hiding and sending others to do your bidding. And look at you now…” he trailed off.

Tori pulled a knife from his sash and admired the sharp tip of it.

“Look at you now,” he said again. “Hardly even worthy of getting my knife dirty. There’s just nothing more to you, is there?” Tori pressed the knife against his throat.

Zuko grimaced at the feeling of cold steel against his skin. His eyes shone in fear for the briefest of instants before hardening. He glowered up at Tori, cold as ice. “You’re right,” Zuko said. “That just about sums me up. Except this…”

Zuko could just make out Katara’s grin in the dim light. She was still limp as a rag-doll and her head hung between her shoulders. But there was no mistaking the crisp _snap_ of her fingers and the weak but wicked smile that played on her lips as she mouthed the words along with him:

“Swords. I’m good at swords.”

Katara flicked her wrists in synchrony and an instant later, two tendrils of water from the puddle she had meticulously bent together, droplet by droplet, hardened into a pair of gleaning ice swords. They looked like a larger version of the ice daggers that she loved to point at Zuko’s throat, but she had modified them slightly to have a small handle on each end for Zuko to hold. He may not have her elemental command of the ice, but he did have an intimate familiarity with the feeling of dual weapons in his hands.

She quickly ran her hand up and down the blade of each sword before sliding the pair of them to Zuko’s open hand.

He caught them easily and surged forward with a grace and fluidity that Katara could swear looked more like her style than his. He was up in one smooth motion, having used Tori’s surprise to his advantage.

Zuko slashed at Tori’s ankles, catching him as he tried to step backward. Tori stumbled and Zuko brought down his swords upon him Tori held up his arms to protect his face. Twin lines of red burst into existence along his forearms, a small drop of blood already collecting at his elbows.

Tori roared in pain. He lifted a leg to kick but Zuko was faster, using a sword to cut through the fabric of his pants and into the back of his knee. He buckled and fell to his knees, no longer able to bear his own weight.

Zuko stepped forward and kicked the knife that Tori was still clutching. “Surrender,” he ordered.

Tori caught his breath a moment and weighed Zuko’s offer. He may have looked almost contrite for a moment there. But no, that must have been wishful thinking. A nasty smile curled its way around his mouth and his eyes flicked around the room. “Surrender?” he laughed, swaying a little as he did. “Why?”

“It’s the honorable way to lose.”

“Is that right? Well, then it’s a good thing I gave that up a long time ago.”

With that, Tori jutted a hand forward and shot a concentrated flare past Zuko to where an unexpecting Katara was waiting.

*_*_*_*_*

Katara had watched Tori sway and was stuck in a loop of _When? Why isn’t it working? When?_ in her mind. So, when Tori shot at her, she jolted in surprise and pulled what water she could from the damp spot to shield her from the incoming barrage. She pushed her water forward to keep the heat as far away from her as possible. The two elements collided violently, propelling steam toward either participant. The scalding steam stung at her face.

Zuko whipped around to her.

As the steam cleared, Katara could only see four things:

  1. The look of pure concern on Zuko’s face.
  2. A serpentine lash of fire slithering rapidly toward his now turned back.
  3. An unforgiving and unforgivable cruelty in Tori’s eyes.
  4. A terrible flashback of blue lightning against a red sky. And another opponent using them against each other.



“Are you oka—“

“NO!” Katara cried as she leapt. Her body crashed into his and she reached out with both hands behind him and grabbed the fire whip that had been, milliseconds before, destined to wrap itself around his neck.

The fire fell apart in her hands, destroying and feeding itself at once by devouring her flesh with rabid hunger. She stifled a cry. She didn’t want to give Tori the satisfaction.

But Tori..

Tori…

Tori was falling. His eyes were rolling to the back of his head as he went.

_There we go. Down you go._

It wasn’t quite the easy victory she had imagined. But she would relish it, nonetheless.

_Suffer, you worthless maggot._

Tori clutched at his chest.

“What did you do to him?” Zuko asked in astonishment as he watched Tori writhe. “Are you bloodbending him?”

Katara shook her head and they both turned away from Tori's now-stilling body. She stooped to pick up both pieces of the spent flower and held it in her palms to show it to him. Its flowers still hung onto the stem, almost stubborn at this point given all they had been through.

“The Lily of the Valley has a secret.”

*_*_*_*_*

Katara let Zuko lead her back to town. She let him lay her down on a soft bed. She let him unwrap the bindings from her wrists and ankles and press a cool cloth to the burns on her hands. They would scar, she knew. That fire had been too hot, too close, and she hadn’t had the chance to heal it fast enough. Still, though, the cool cloth felt nice.

“The Lily of the Valley has a secret, does it?” Zuko asked quietly as he dabbed at her wounds. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “I thought we weren’t keeping secrets anymore.”

His tone was cautious with the slightest hint of teasing. She knew she could tear him a new one right now. She could yell at him for lying to her. But, she also knew that nothing she told him would be as cruel as the things he told himself.

Because when the one you love hurts you, your first thought isn’t, ‘How can I hurt them worse?’ It’s ‘How do we get through this?’

Thus, when he offered her a choice between yelling at him and talking to him, she chose the latter.

“I figured you must have known, mister-leaves-lavender-out-to-get-the-girl. If you know the meaning of flowers, I figured you’d know their uses too.”

Katara had long ago learned the symbolic meaning of flowers. But it wasn’t until her tenure in the Earth Kingdom that she began to study their medicinal purposes. Or, as was the case for the Lily of the Valley, their toxicities.

Zuko shrugged. “I didn’t know that it could do that. What exactly did it do?” And then, more quietly, he added, “What did you do?”

“It’s very toxic to the heart in large enough doses. I had to break the stem to get enough of the liquid out so that I could coat the sword I made for you. Then, all I had to do was trust my master swordsman,” she said, poking him, “to be able to land a clean hit on him. Once the toxin entered his bloodstream, it was only a matter of time.”

“You’re brilliant, do you know that?”

She smiled. “I do. And yet I’m in love with a dummy.” She shifted against her pillows to sit up so she could be eye-level with him. “Why did you think I wouldn’t believe you? Why didn’t you trust me?”

“I…don’t have a good reason.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“How can you have so much faith in me?”

“I told you: I know you. I know you don’t do things without reason. So, there had to be something going on in that head of yours.”

“I was terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

“I’m not scary!”

He laughed lightly. “Yes. You are. And that’s one of the things I love about you. But that’s not what I mean.” He let the mirth evaporate before he spoke again. “I mean I was scared of getting hurt.”

“Zuko.”

“Again.”

“Zuko...”

“By you.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not like that. Not again. I’ve learned.”

“I know. I know. I know that up here.” He tapped his head. “But somehow, I just couldn’t act on it. And when I found out about Tori, I had just gotten you back. And I was so scared that you wouldn’t believe me. That you’d be angry. And that you’d leave.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

“I know,” he said again, looking abashed. “It was just too much. And it got away from me. And there were so many times that I wanted to tell you. But then my council got involved and–“

And he was rambling.

She placed a hand over his chest and he stopped short. They stayed like that a moment, quietly breathing together. She let her fingertips trace the outline of the scar below. She had long since memorized its shape.

Katara’s voice was soft, “You’ve got to let me make my own choices. You can’t make them for me or take them away from me. You’ve got to know that when I have a choice, I’ll choose you. But you have to trust me to do that. You’ve got to let me be free. Free to choose you over and over again. I’ll show you that you’re the only person I’ll ever want. But you have to let me prove it to you.”

His eyes shone with tears and he blinked a few times before he lifted both of her hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the little finger of her left hand. “I will. I will trust you.”

He kissed her ring finger. “And I want you to know…”

He kissed her middle finger. “I’m yours.”

He kissed her index finger. “Make me, break me…”

He kissed her thumb. “I’m yours.”

He kissed the little finger of her right hand. “I have been yours for so long.”

He kissed her ring finger. “But I was too afraid to admit it.”

He kissed her middle finger. “I’m done denying it.”

He kissed her index finger. “I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.”

He kissed her thumb. “Always.”

“You’re mine,” she agreed. “And I am yours.”

She brought her hands to rest between them. Two sets of eyes fell upon the long, burned streak painted across her palms.

Katara inspected her wounds. “How many does this make between us now?” she whispered as if she didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Four.”

“Wait. Don’t forget these two,” she said, pointing to his heart and then to hers.

Zuko wasn’t expecting the sob that bubbled up suddenly at her words. He crawled onto the bed fully, gathered her in his arms and held her against his chest until he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing. Katara settled comfortably in his embrace. “Those aren’t scars, my love. Scars never heal. These?” he asked, feeling her heartbeat. “These are yours and mine to heal.”

“Did we?”

“I think we did.”

“Four, then.” She closed her eyes and laid her head on him. “I think that’s enough.”

“Too many.”

“I’d take a hundred more for you,” she whispered.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Tori just…die?  
> Ya know, it was really unclear.
> 
> 😂  
>  _I think I’m funny._
> 
> (Yes, he's dead. Katara laced an ice sword with poison.)
> 
> Whew.
> 
> Done with Four. What a beast of a number in the countdown.
> 
> 1\. There is a brief reference to the previous chapter where Zuko is trying to get through the jungle. He tries to stay out of the shadows. That is because he wants to be open and honest; he wants to give trust.
> 
> 2\. 🚨Callback to Ten.🚨
> 
> Why does this matter? Because this is all about trust. And where do we first encounter the theme of Zutara trust? In the crystal catacombs. We can compare and contrast. What's different? He’s shedded a lot of that self-loathing and insecurity. What’s the same? Zuko struggles. (Zuko wouldn’t be Zuko if he didn’t struggle.)
> 
> Zuko still wants the same things as he did back then! He wants to trust someone – to be important to someone and give himself to someone completely. He wants to be Zuko, just Zuko (remember, that’s how he introduces himself to Katara?)
> 
> But, in Ten, he is not ready to do that. In Ten, Zuko’s narrative says, “there was no one to save him.” But now, Zuko is the one to save himself. It’s a journey he had to go on by himself. He needed a lot of help from our other wonderful characters, but ultimately, he had to be the one to make this decision. He had to be the one to choose trust. He has to be the one who learns how to step away from the things that have been drilled into him by Ozai – that vulnerability is weakness. He also has to be able to overcome his fear of abandonment.
> 
> He couldn’t back in Ten. He wasn’t there yet, emotionally. But now he is. And so, when it comes to decision time, he struggles hard, but in the end, he decides that there is courage and power in vulnerability.
> 
> 3\. Lily of the Valley contains abundant cardiac glycosides. These are chemicals that cause increased contractility of your heart, but a slower heart rate. Overdose can result in severe bradycardia (slow heart rate) and altered mental status. It can also lead to cardiac arrythmias/arrest. Tori likely went into v fib. The chances of recovering from that are…not good.
> 
> He got outsmarted and out botany-ed by the two people who have used just about every form of communication under the sun – talking, screaming, fighting, cryptic messages, symbolic gifts, and yes, flowers. Thus, they speak the language of flowers.
> 
> OMG art for this scene by RBR [here](https://hugs4zuko.tumblr.com/post/635675954228969473/and-in-her-hand-a-thin-stem-with-tiny-white)
> 
> 4\. I anticipate there may be some feelings that Katara was too lenient in this chapter. That she should yell at Zuko and be angry at him for lying to her. And Katara is absolutely entitled to those feelings. But, the big question is, what is she going to do with those feelings? She’s grown a lot over the course of this fic and has matured an astonishing amount. The way she treats Zuko in that last scene is the tenderest, most mature expression of love and forgiveness that I can imagine. She doesn’t deny that he’s done something wrong. But she tries to understand it. And then she tries to help him through it. I want them to have a very healthy relationship and this is my demonstration of that.
> 
> 5\. Wanna talk about those finger kisses? Sure ya do!
> 
> They’re a loose representation of our story.
> 
> Let's call Katara’s little finger on her left hand No. 10. So, Zuko kisses No. 10 and says, “I will. I will trust you.” This is a reference to Ten where he tries to let himself trust.
> 
> He kisses No. 9 and says, “And I want you to know…” This is a reference to Nine where Zuko spends the entire chapter trying to prove himself and trying to gain her trust.
> 
> He kisses No. 8 and says, “I’m yours.” This is a reference to Eight where they go on their trip together and have that wonderful moment later that night. That’s a big bonding chapter for them.
> 
> He kisses No. 7 and says, “Make me, break me…” This is a reference to Seven where Katara does exactly that. She makes him in the first part of the chapter and breaks him in the later part.
> 
> He then kisses No. 6 and says, “I’m yours.” This is a reference to Six wherein we don’t really know what Zuko is thinking, but we later discover he has been in love with Katara the entire time.
> 
> He kisses No. 5 and says, “I have been for so long.” This is a reference to Five where they talk through their past.
> 
> He kisses No. 4 and says, “But I was too afraid to admit it.” This is a reference to Four which is the chapter in which Zuko loses his freaking mind.
> 
> He then kisses 3, 2 and 1 and says some lovely things that I am not going to explicitly spoil.
> 
> Ready for this to end?
> 
> Me neither.
> 
> Oh well. It’s inevitable. It always was. You knew that at the outset.
> 
> Take a deep breath. Let’s finish the countdown. ❤️


	16. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Three, loves.

* * *

* * *

_Though my soul may set in darkness  
_ _It will rise in perfect light.  
_ _I have loved the stars too fondly  
_ _To be fearful of the night._

_-sarah williams_

* * *

* * *

Days passed and Katara recovered. They wrote reports and had meetings with Zuko’s military officers. They took their time getting back to the coast, stopping at the hospital to personally assure the staff that funding would be re-started. They followed the river down to Shen Lin. While Katara paid her respects at the memorial, Zuko found the villagers he had met before and told them that every single member of the platoon had been brought to justice. They nodded sadly and thanked him.

He told Katara how horrible he felt when they made camp that night.

“You’re doing the best you can,” she told him. “That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

“But I’m not. I still make mistakes.”

“Doing your best doesn’t mean being perfect. It means always being willing to own up to and learn from your mistakes.”

Zuko simply nodded and cut vegetables for their dinner the way she had shown him.

That night, Zuko fell asleep with his head in her lap, soothed by the way her fingers combed gently – so gently – through his hair. She hummed softly as he drifted, an aimless melody that wandered up and down through the notes, directionless but pleasant, nonetheless.

*_*_*_*

A week later, aboard the ship, in the middle of the night, and only once she was sure he was asleep, Katara carefully extracted herself from the circle of Zuko’s arms to slip silently out of their cabin. Her silk nightrobe swished around the door, the whisper of its fabric against the metal the only sound in the quiet night.

She padded barefoot across the ship’s deck to the bow and fixed herself against the railing, appreciating the spray of salty water against her face. There was an uncharacteristic chill in the air, and she toyed with the idea of going back inside to put on something warmer. But then, she’d probably wake Zuko who Spirits knew needed his sleep.

Evidently, however, the Spirits weren’t listening because she heard his nearly silent footsteps behind her a moment later. She had learned to listen for the particular way he moved. He was quiet in the night, but if one knew what to look for, he could be found.

And so, she found him.

Katara turned around and extended her hand toward him, asking him to come to her.

He sauntered forth, a little shy and a lot bleary-eyed.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, hugging her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her and easily chased away the cold.

Katara said nothing. She simply leaned back and let him hold her. She wasn’t too tired to hold herself up, but it was such a relief to collapse against him. Her own two feet were steadily planted. Her spine was straight and strong. But it would taste a lie for Katara to say it didn’t feel good to fall into him, knowing he would catch her – not because she needed him to but because she wanted him to.

His arms tightened around her and he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck.

“I was just thinking of the future,” she said. Her words were light on her breath.

“What about it?” His voice wavered a note away from confidence.

“I was wondering…” she trailed off when she felt his breath against her skin. She reached a hand around to stroke his hair. “I was wondering what comes next.”

He answered immediately. Almost too immediately. “What do you want to come next?”

Electricity crackled between them. In the tiny space between him and her lay the last bit of uncertainty.

“Katara…?”

“I don’t want it to be up to just me.” But before her words could traverse the space between them, the wind stole them away.

Zuko stole them back, unwrapped them one at a time and held them tight. He painted them in his colors before he returned them to her.

“It’s up to us. Both of us.”

“Both of us,” she repeated. “Then, tell me, do you know what you want?”

She faced him to find his eyes burning with pain, passion, promise and everything in between. So many times she had seen his eyes smolder. She’d seen them darken with desire. She’d seen them flash with fear or anger. But never before had she seen them quite like this. It was as if there was a bright and pure fire deep within him and his eyes were finally clear enough for the light to shine through. It was beautiful.

“I do. I think I’ve known for a long time; I just couldn’t admit it.”

“Then admit it.” It was an order; it was a plea. It was both. It was neither.

It was necessary.

“I love you,” he said. “And I want to have you and be had by you.”

It was the truth.

“For how long?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

“No, Zuko.” She pushed him slightly and he didn’t budge. Not an inch. “For how long do _you_ want that?”

“As long as the sun rises.” With his arms still around her, he walked her back two steps until she bumped into the railing. He looked down at her and the fire burned a little hotter. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth and he flexed his arms around her to tell her that he had her and he wouldn’t let go. “Your turn.”

“I love you,” she answered. “I want to be yours and you to be mine.”

“For how long?”

“As long as the moon pulls the tides.”

He lowered his head to kiss her, but she was already there to meet him. They collided in the way they were always meant to – catastrophically – and the world fell apart.

Katara pushed herself into him. Zuko pulled her as close as she could possibly be, supporting her fully. And then he dipped her. They moved together in a single, elegant arc.

A tear may have slipped down his cheek. She may have made a small sound of pain as she splayed her palms across his back, the burns on her hands still tender. He may have whispered “I love you,” again and again. She may have tasted the words like honey on her tongue.

They may have done these things. Who is to say what happens when the sun and the moon collide?

*_*_*_*

The clang of metal rang up and down the hall as Katara pushed Zuko against the wall. Somewhere, in some distant part of his mind, Zuko felt bad for the noise they were making. But every other part of his mind was singularly focused on the woman currently throwing herself at him. They had attempted to make their way back to their cabin and had gotten as far as the hallway before Katara snapped.

She crushed herself against him. She gave him no room to move. She allowed him no air to breathe. Her kiss commanded, “You will be everything I need. And I need you now.”

She guided them down the hall and through the door to their room, never parting from him. She kicked the door shut behind them and then kicked his knees out from under him.

Zuko sunk down before her, panting desperately. He glanced up at her, the ghost of question too weak to manifest into words on his lips. She ran her hands through his loose hair and cupped her hands around the back of his head. She guided him forward, closer and closer until his breath was hot and heavy through the fabric of her robe.

He settled between her legs, pushing her robe aside and fiddling with the end of her bindings until they unraveled and pooled at her feet. He kissed up one leg, then the other. Katara tightened a hand in his hair and he nipped at the inside of her thigh. She pulled his head closer and he licked up until he tasted her arousal.

Katara tipped her head back and made no effort to contain the sound that escaped her as he pressed his tongue into her. It sounded like relief. Relief that their past is behind them. And it sounded like need. Need for their future. Need for more.

So much need for so much more.

She arched her back and yanked at his hair, positioning him exactly where she needed him. Zuko was happy to oblige, humming contentedly as he alternated between dipping his tongue into her and lapping at her clit. He ate her out like a man starved for it. And when she dropped her gaze, she found exactly that. His eyes flicked up to hers, and though he was on his knees for her, she was the one rendered immobile by the heat of his gaze. He held her there a long moment before returning to his work. Here he was in all of his forms – powerful, selfless, gentle, damaged – distilled into Zuko, just Zuko.

Heat coiled in her the pit of her stomach and her grip on his hair became progressively tighter. She hoped in the back of her mind that she wasn’t hurting him. The rest of her mind didn’t care. Seemingly, neither did Zuko. He was willing, eager, and exclusively focused on her pleasure as he fucked her with his tongue. She chanced another glance down and the heat in her belly sparked and raged. She would never tire of seeing the mess of his black hair between her legs.

She whined and he drew back enough for her to catch sight of his flushed cheeks. His eyes shined with mischievous determination, as he looked up at her through his lashes and drew a “K” on her clit with the tip of his tongue.

Her knees buckled and he was quick to catch her.

“Zu—” she started, but he was already sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to the bed. He dropped her down and was gone for only a second to divest her and then himself of their robes. He returned to her with a vigor, hauling her legs over his shoulders, and pushing two fingers inside of her in time with the flicking of his tongue. “Zukooo…” she whined. The capacity to form any sound other than his name was quickly fading. Her vision was going dim and all she felt was sparkling heat.

He said something muffled against her that she didn’t catch. She wasn’t going to ask him to clarify. In fact, she was rather insistent that he stay exactly where he was because she was close – so fucking close. But he didn’t stay. Because he never did what she thought he would do. Because as much as she controlled him with her words, he controlled her with his actions. They were so irrevocably twisted up in each other.

Katara twisted, trying to angle him back where she wanted him. But he dipped his head to leave his mark along her thighs. She would have kicked him if he hadn’t, at the same moment, curled his fingers toward the exact spot that he knew she loved. He was winding her so tight that she thought she might shatter instead of snap.

“Zuko, _please_.” 

“Got you,” he murmured against her skin, as he trailed back up. “I’ve always got you.” He picked up the rhythm of his fingers and put his mouth on her again. She ground against him and felt herself tipping over the edge. He drew a “Z” on her clit with the tip of his tongue and she was gone – her vision was white; she didn’t see the smirk on Zuko’s face. Her hearing was static; she didn’t hear herself screaming as she came. Nothing existed except the explosion of pleasure that wracked her body.

He fucked her through the waves and she slowly came back to awareness. When the aftershocks subsided, he gently set her legs down. The mattress dipped beside her and there was a pillow being placed under her head and a blanket laid over her.

When she opened her eyes again, the room was darker. Candles had been doused everywhere except along one wall. She rolled over to the sight of Zuko sucking his fingers clean. His half-lidded eyes were dark with desire. He savored the taste — her taste — and only when he was done, did he climb over her and whisper, “I will never get enough of you.”

She wound her arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. She tasted herself on his lips and when she licked into his mouth, she found herself there too, mixed with his own sweet spice. She kissed him until she could no longer tell what belonged to whom. She kissed him until he understood, “I will be everything you need, and you will need only me.”

He understood.

Zuko unwound her upper bindings and breathed a puff of warm air over her breasts. She shivered. “Cold?” he teased, before sucking lightly at her pebbled nipple.

“Freezing actually,” she answered in earnest. “Why is it so cold? Aren’t we almost back home?”

Zuko stilled at her mention of “home.” Before he had a chance to recover himself, Katara pressed again, “Zuko. We are almost home, right?”

He ducked his head into her neck. “Can’t say.”

“I thought – ah!” he sucked hard at the sensitive skin under her jaw. “I thought we weren’t keeping secrets anymore.”

“Not a secret. A surprise.”

“I’m surprised. Now tell me.”

“Trust me,” he murmured as nibbled along her collarbone.

“I do,” she said, hooking her foot in the waistband of his sleeping pants and pushing them down. Zuko groaned when Katara reached between them and brushed her fingers tortuously lightly over his swollen, neglected cock.

“You’ll like it,” he said, hoping that would be enough. Her hand didn’t move. “I promise,” he tried. She didn’t look convinced, but she wrapped her hand around him and stroked him slowly.

“How do you know I’ll like it?”

“Because” he thrust into her hand, desperate for more. “Because I know you.”

“Oh?” she teased, twisting her wrist in a move of delicious mercy.

“Yes. I know you. I know what you like. You’ll like it.”

She made a non-committal sound and released her grip.

“Katara, _please_ ,” he begged.

“Fine. But do you know what else I like?”

“Wha—”

“This.” Katara flipped them in one swift motion so she straddled him. She laughed when Zuko’s eyes widened slightly as she lined him up and sunk herself down. She always loved the sound he made when he first entered her, but that sound mixed with surprise might be her new favorite.

Zuko couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way her breasts bounced as she rode him. He pinched her nipples and Katara arched her back, taking him as deep as she possibly could. He made a choked-off sound and grabbed at her hips. He hoped she understood what he was asking because he didn’t trust himself to speak at the moment.

She understood.

She allowed him to guide her and used one hand to coax herself over the edge with him. They came together, each the other’s names on their lips.

And all the while, on the wall opposite of the lit candles, their silhouettes danced to the beat of their love making.

*_*_*_*

Zuko was working when Katara’s shout from the deck startled him. She sounded… pained? He sprung up and ran to her.

Katara was up on the railing, pointing to something in the distance. He scanned the horizon and saw the huge chunks of ice sticking out of the water.

_Ah, not pained. Excited._

“What’s out there?” he asked, now knowing full-well what she was pointing at.

“ZUKO!” She spun around and tackled him. They crashed onto the wooden deck. She cradled his head as they fell.

Her eyes sparkled with joy and she held him tight.

“Thank you.”

*_*_*_*

Sokka was there to meet them when they docked.

“You’re early!” Sokka said as he ran to meet them. He scooped Katara up in a hug.

“You knew we were coming?” Katara asked.

“Of course. Zuko wrote me a week ago,” Sokka said, letting her go and clasping Zuko in a hug.

“A week?” She looked to Zuko who smiled back at her. “You planned this before we left the Earth Kingdom?”

“Surprise,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple.

*_*_*_*

Sokka told them that they had an hour or so to themselves before the welcome dinner. Suki, now eight months pregnant, was resting and he needed to get back to Seya and Yona. He shooed them off, handing her two pairs of mittens and whispering something in her ear.

Katara clapped Sokka on the back as he left. She handed one pair over to Zuko and put the other on her own hands.

“What do you want to see first?” she asked.

“Show me the things that made you, you.”

Katara beamed.

She took him all around, showing him this and that, explaining this memory and that time that Sokka had to run from a wolf-walrus and ended up hiding in that cave over there. She showed him where she first learned she was a Waterbender. And she cracked the ice to prove her point.

Katara was glowing. The dwindling golden light did everything to accentuate that fact. There was a halo behind her as she asked, “Where to next? We have a few minutes before we need to be back.”

Zuko thought for a moment before he decided. “Take me to your favorite place.”

She did. She grabbed him by the mitten and lead him up the backside of a wall of ice on the edge of the village to the top of a cliff where they could see everything.

In one direction was the sparkle of the sea that said goodnight to the sun and tucked him into her ever-loving embrace. They could hear the quiet sigh of the sun as he settled soft and warm against the horizon, whispering a final “I love you” with a farewell kiss of purple against a darkening sky.

In the other direction lay the village below with torches being lit along its walkways, smoke billowing from the chimneys of homes, and life flourishing.

Katara wrapped herself around Zuko.

“I love it here,” she said, taking it all in.

“I do, too. Thank you for showing me.”

“Of course. I want you to see this. I want you to see everything.”

He smiled, kissed her forehead, and fought with his mitten to try and hold her hand.

“I want to ask you something,” he said into her hair. Something sparked between them.

Katara gasped quietly and held her breath – an icy sharp inhale that stung in her lungs. _He couldn’t be. He wouldn’t…_

“I want to ask you…”

“THERE YOU ARE!” came the shout from behind them. Sokka climbed up the glacier. “We’re all waiting! Come on!”

*_*_*_*

They trudged down to dinner, Zuko shivering the whole way. When they got to the hall where the whole village had gathered for a communal dinner, she readied him with a kiss and a word of affirmation.

It helped marginally.

“Sir,” Zuko said, bowing to Hakoda.

Hakoda smiled, much in the way Katara would, at this display of deference. He appreciated it, thought it mostly unnecessary, but entertained it, nonetheless.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda said in response, inclining his head.

“No, please. None of that. I’m not—”

“Fiyazu!”

“Lorko!”

His ankles were suddenly heavy with toddlers. And the moment was suddenly much lighter.

A very pregnant Suki waddled briskly up to them. “Yona! Seya!”

Zuko looked down to find, indeed, two very cute little girls at his feet.

“No, no, it’s fine I don’t mind—”

“Oh, I know you don’t,” Suki said, making no effort to remove the girls from their vice grip. “But they’re supposed to at least say hello before they attack.”

“Girls,” Sokka said, appearing behind Suki. “Say hello.”

“Hallo, Fiazuork.”

They spoke at once and if you took the combined average of what they said, they nailed it. Zuko thought they nailed it anyway.

He laughed warmly as he sat on the floor at eye level with the girls. He said, “You can just call me Zuko. Or whatever part of that you prefer.”

“Uncle Zuko,” Sokka amended.

Zuko ducked his head and the girls giggled at him. They tugged at his light clothing and asked, “Where’s your parkaaa?” “Aren’t you cowwwwwld?”

“Yes,” he said, answering them honestly. “I need to get used to things around here.”

A few feet away, Katara listened to their conversation and smiled.

*_*_*_*

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, and only once he was sure she was asleep, Zuko slipped himself from Katara’s warm embrace and stole out into the night.

Snow crunched beneath Zuko’s boots as he approached the edge of the glacial cliff. The ocean stretched out before him, the reflection of starlight winking among the black waves. The moon hid somewhere behind a few clouds.

Zuko knelt down and the snow cushioned him, welcoming him into its soft, cold embrace. He placed his hands out in front of him and lowered himself until his forehead touched the snow. He stayed there, silent and solemn, for more than a few long moments.

When he sat up again, his back was straight and he remained kneeling in the snow at the cliff’s edge that gave way to the endless expanse of ocean.

“Kya,” his throat tightened around the name. He swallowed thickly, blinked back a few tears and tried again.

“Kya,” he said, more clearly this time, looking out toward the sea and sky. “You don’t know me. And I don’t really know you. But I know your daughter. And I love her.”

.

.

.

“I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Zuko. I’m twenty-three. I hope you don’t hate me when I tell you this, but I’m not from here. I’m from a place that’s too hot all the time. I’m from a place with a dark history. But without denying that history, I’m trying to make sure that the future is very different. And I can do that. Because, Kya, I’m the Fire Lord. I hate the way those words sound here. There’s still so much work to do and so many things to fix. Things are still so raw.

But, I tell you Kya, because I know Katara. Katara is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Yet, somehow she was able to forgive me. I hope you can. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.

Katara told me that being good isn’t about being perfect; it’s about learning from your mistakes.”

.

.

.

“I first met Katara here, seven years ago – technically, I guess. That was when we first saw each other. But I didn’t really meet her until a few months later. Either way, I don’t think things could be any more different now than they were all those years ago. I never would have thought that things would turn out this way. But I am so thankful that they did. I’m grateful to everything that has brought me to this point.

Even though you don’t know me, Kya, you are one of the people I am grateful to. You helped raise the woman who changed my life. You taught her how to be strong and gentle. You taught her how to see the good in people. You raised the most incredible person I’ve ever known.

I love Katara with everything I am. I’ll never stop loving her. I don’t think I ever could. She is so, so, so important to me. And I think…”

Zuko tipped his head back to see wisps of moonlight peeking through the clouds.

“I think I’m important to her too.” He balled his hands inside his mittens and hoped, perhaps for the first time, _not_ against hope that his words were true. They felt true.

They _were_ true.

“I wish you could be here, Kya. For so many reasons. For Katara. For Sokka and Suki. For your granddaughters, Seya and Yona. They are the cutest things, honestly. And there’s another one on the way. I’m sure you know that.”

Zuko laughed softly to himself.

“But, selfishly, there’s another reason I wish you could be here…” he trailed off and matched his breathing to the pace of the crashing waves below. “I want to ask you something…”

And when Zuko spoke again, the snow around him glowed a pale blue as the moon shined bright and strong upon it.

*_*_*_*

The next morning, Katara sat cross-legged on the cliff-top, whittling the bone in her hands, carving it into a rough shape of what she wanted it to be. It didn’t need to be perfect just yet. But the outline had to be there.

In the sea below, Sokka, Suki, Zuko, Seya, and Yona were sailing. Sokka, at the helm, directed his crew this way and that, navigating them through the smooth morning waters. This was, by no means, a test of skill. It was not a test of trust or bravery. It wasn’t a test of anything. It was simple happiness.

Katara turned the bone over in her hand as she watched her brother with his family. She gripped it tightly as she watched Zuko laugh easily among them.

The crunch of snow behind her alerted her to another presence. She knew her father by the sound of his heavy, steady footfalls.

Hakoda joined his daughter and enjoyed the happy scene below. After a moment, he noticed her fiddling with something. He glanced at what was taking form in Katara’s hands, then out to the sea, then back at Katara. He checked for any doubt, any note of coercion in his daughter’s features. There were none. He settled his gaze on the bone in her hands.

“Really?” he asked without preface, knowing she would understand.

“Really.” Her answer was easy, unrushed, and as true as the sky above them. “Dad, will you?” she asked, holding the bone out toward him.

Hakoda looked at the object she held. In it, in all of its uncarved beauty, he saw a life stretched before them, unknown and uncarved. It was all there hidden but by the veil of time. It would be shaped by their choices. It would be a future they would shape themselves.

And here was his daughter asking for guidance on how to carve that future into the gift she would give the man she had chosen.

His heart swelled at the thought and he braced himself for the usual sting that came when he imagined the future of his and Kya’s children. The future that she would never see.

But the sting didn’t come.

“If it is what you want,” Hakoda said, “of course Katara. You are as strong as your mother and I know you make the right choices when it counts.”

Katara’s eyes welled with tears as she passed him the object in her hand.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like me to convey?” Hakoda asked.

“Just whatever you think is important.”

“I can do that,” he assured her.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 👏🏻 did 👏🏻 not 👏🏻 lie! No more angst!!! 
> 
> 1\. Dip kiss/trust fall, anyone? ❤️
> 
> 2\. I think we have…four? Parallel scenes of them walking up to each other? 
> 
> The language in each tells their story. The first is when Zuko approaches Katara on the beach in Eight. In that scene he is telling Katara that he would do anything for her and for her forgiveness. The language I used there is, “She held out her hand and gestured forward, permitting him.” 
> 
> The next time we have a scene like this is at the sunset scene at the caldera’s edge in Seven when Katara is pondering her next move. The language I used there is, “She lifted a hand and gestured forward, inviting him.”
> 
> The next time is in Five, the aftermath where Katara comes upon Zuko at the pergola where she is asking his forgiveness. The language I used there is, “[Zuko] gestured beside [himself], bidding her welcome if she would accept his silent invitation.”
> 
> And now, finally we have this language: “Katara turned around and extended her hand toward him, asking him to come to her.” She is actively asking him to join her. See the progression of verbs? Permit --> invite --> welcome --> ask. There’s more of an active will with each progression of language. It’s supposed to represent the development of their relationship.
> 
> 3\. They collided catastrophically. Told ya they would. ;) 
> 
> 4\. This whole fic has so many references to itself that if I try to point them all out, my notes will be as long as the chapter itself. I’ll just point out two in this chapter: Zuko the powerful, selfless, gentle, damaged is a reference to Five, continued where Katara regards him during the sparring scene.
> 
> “I will never get enough of you,” is a comparison to what Zuko says in Seven where he says, “I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.” It’s the difference between "could" and "will." He’s much more sure of himself now. He trusts Katara to be his future. He says "I will." He is counting on his life with her.
> 
> 5\. They’re their own shadow candle in that scene. Ughhhhhhh… 😫
> 
> Let me know what you think. Comments are love. ❤️🧡💛


	17. Three, it always had to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone who celebrates them! I hope you are all safe and warm and surrounded by people who love you. If for any reason, any of those things are not true, know that I love you. If you’re like me and are not able to be around the people you love this holiday season, just know that better days lie ahead. Better days lie ahead.
> 
> So, in light of all that, I gift you this fluff. Let’s have some happiness, shall we?

* * *

* * *

_I have looked at you in millions of ways  
_ _And I have loved you in each_

* * *

* * *

They spent another week in the Southern Water Tribe, sailing, fishing, playing, and basking in the warmth of being with family.

One night, Zuko swiped a sleepy hand when something poked at his side. It happened again and he cracked one eye open to find a fully-dressed Katara sitting beside him.

“Zuko, wake up,” Katara whispered, poking him again.

Zuko moaned and surveyed the room. It was still dark out. He buried his head under his pillow and said, “’S too early. Go backta sleep.”

“I haven’t gone to sleep yet.”

“Thengotosleep,” came his muffled reply.

“No, come on. Wake up. I want to show you something.”

He grumbled.

“Please?”

He grumbled again but reluctantly got up and dressed in the clothes that Katara handed him.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day where _you_ wake _me_ up,” he said, pulling his boots on.

“First time for everything!” Her smile was bright as the morning sun and it warmed him just the same.

He allowed the frigid night air to wake him up as Katara led them away from the village, away from the sea.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Zuko asked when he realized he had no idea where they were or where they were headed.

Katara laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. I wonder what kind of ransom I could get for you.”

“Oh, you’re assuming that I’m going to be a cooperative hostage?”

“I think it’d be in your best interests to cooperate, yes. Remember last time you tried to fight me surrounded by snow and ice?”

“Ouch.” Zuko winced at the memory. “Point taken. But where are we going?”

Katara looked around, deemed them far enough from civilization and declared, “Here.”

“Here” was nowhere. Or, at least it was no more “here” than anywhere else. But that’s neither here nor there.

She’d stopped them in the middle of a flat plain. A soft wind picked up the snow off the ground and swirled it lightly around them.

Katara crossed her legs as she sat on the ground and indicated for Zuko to do the same.

“You dragged me out of bed, into the cold and dark, in the middle of the night, and now you want to just sit down in the middle of nowhere?” Zuko asked, doing exactly that.

“We may have to wait a few minutes, but I think you’ll like it,” she said, rubbing his back for warmth.

“In that case,” he said, relaxing a little at her touch, “I want to ask you something.”

Katara’s heart fluttered in her chest and caught in her throat. “Now?”

“Yeah, now,” Zuko said automatically, before processing the strangled quality of her voice. He paused and said slowly, “Unless now is not a good time.”

“Now’s fine.”

He eyed her suspiciously.

“Go on,” she said. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“After everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, I just…” he trailed off and tipped his head back to face the stars.

“You just what?”

“I just have to know,” he said, still staring upward.

“Then ask.”

“What do you need to be happy?”

That was not the question she was expecting.

“What do I need to be happy?” she repeated. That was _certainly_ not the question she had been expecting. “What do I need to be happy?” she murmured to herself. But it was tangentially related, she realized.

_You,_ she thought. _Purpose. Family. Freedom to make my own choices._

But before she said those things aloud, she asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you told me that being good means learning from mistakes. One of the things I’ve learned is that I need to communicate more. I need to talk to you.”

“Crazy idea, huh?” she teased.

“I’m trying, Katara,” he said somberly. “It’s not easy for me to talk about how I feel. It doesn’t come naturally to me, but I am trying.”

“I know that, Zuko.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He gestured vaguely around them and shrugged as if to say, ‘everything?’

She quirked an eyebrow at him and he sighed.

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. I’m sorry for not trusting you. This all could have been avoided if I had just talked to you.”

“That’s true,” she said, and his shoulders sagged a little. “But then, we wouldn’t be here now. And I like being here now.” She ran a hand up and down his back. “All of our mistakes have led us here. We’ve made so many choices – right and wrong – and we’ve landed here.”

“I like being here now, too.” Zuko said before tipping his head back to face the stars again. He gasped suddenly.

Katara didn’t need to look up to know what he was seeing. She had been out for a late-night walk earlier in the evening when the Southern Lights had appeared in the sky. She enjoyed the sight by herself for a few minutes before darting inside to wake Zuko. She knew that they came and went throughout the night, but she was sure they’d make another appearance.

And here they were, as hoped, as expected, as promised.

Their colors winked and weaved through the sky and Zuko watched them as if he were trying to memorize them. His mouth was left slightly agape from the astonished “oh” that fell from his lips.

They watched the Southern Lights in comfortable silence. And when the ephemeral phenomenon gave way once again to the blackness of night, Zuko took Katara’s hands in his own and said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You noticed.”

“Of course, I noticed. I notice lots of things about you. But please, I need to you tell me this. What do you need to be happy?”

“I am happy.”

“That’s not what I asked, though. I’m talking about for the rest of your life. When you’re old and grey and you look back on your life, what do you want to see? What will be important to you?”

“Well, I hope that I will have had a life where I accomplished something. I want to have purpose. But I also want to have time for the people I love. Family is very important to me.”

Zuko hummed thoughtfully. “Anything else?”

“I want to be free to make my own choices.”

“Okay. So, the recipe to Katara happiness calls for family, purpose, and freedom,” he said.

“I wasn’t done. There’s one more thing,” she said.

“Oh?”

“I want all of those things. But you asked what I need to be happy. If I had all those things, I’d be very proud of my life, but I wouldn’t be happy. To be happy, I need one more thing. I need you.”

He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

*_*_*_*

Seya and Yona had taken quite a liking to Zuko. They spent hours chasing him, playing hide-and-seek and a dozen other games that Zuko was pretty sure they made up on the spot.

He didn’t complain. He simply asked Katara for a parka and let the toddlers lead him by the hand to play outside. Sokka waved at him as he went, mouthing a “Thank you,” as his daughters chattered excitedly. Inside, Suki put on a kettle for tea.

“Is your face frozen?” Sokka asked when he settled at the table, across from Katara.

“Huh?”

“You haven’t stopped smiling since you got here.”

“Shuddup,” Katara said, trying (and failing) to scowl.

“That’s not a denial.”

“And that’s hardly the way to broach the topic,” Suki scolded, carrying a tray of tea. Sokka stood to help her and set the tray down on the table before turning his attention to his wife.

Sokka used one hand to hold one of Suki’s. He placed the other on the small of her back to help ease her down into a chair. She smiled up at him and placed a hand on her very pregnant belly as she shifted to get comfortable. Sokka snatched a pillow and put it behind her to support her lower back. He hovered until she was settled.

Something warm clutched at Katara’s heart. She made no effort to disguise the smile that curved her lips.

“So,” Suki said, passing Katara a steaming cup and grabbing one for herself, “Should we start making plans to head up there later this year?”

“What are you talking abou—”

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “You two are perfect for each other. Neither of you can keep a straight face.”

Katara reddened slightly under her collar. “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s been obvious. It was obvious when we were kids. It’s obvious now,” Sokka said.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No…” Sokka was pensive. “No, it’s really not. I’m happy for you. You deserve happiness, Katara. You deserve the whole world. You deserve someone who will treat you well. And I know that Zuko would throw himself on hot coals for you, but if he ever does anything stupid, I’d—"

Katara kicked him under the table.

“Ow!”

“You’d what, Sokka?”

“I’d kick his butt!” he said, rubbing his shin where she had kicked it.

“I appreciate that, big brother. I really do. But you can leave the butt-kicking to me.”

“Poor Zuko,” Suki chuckled under her breath.

Sokka threw her a sideways glare.

“I’m just saying,” Sokka continued. “He can be the most in-love idiot in the world. But he has to treat you right.”

“He does.”

Sokka took a sip of his tea and mumbled into his cup, “He better.”

“Don’t get me wrong. He has made _plenty_ of mistakes. So have I. But you don’t have to be perfect to be good. We’re not perfect and I don’t want to be. I want to be with someone I can be myself with. Someone who accepts my past, loves me in the present, and wants to build a future together.”

Suki smiled into her tea.

“He is my ‘someone.’ He is the one I can learn from and grow with. And most importantly, he’s the one I want to do that with.”

Sokka hummed a thoughtful note and nodded.

“Suki, can I see your bracelet?” Katara asked, suddenly interested.

“Yeah, of course,” she said, extending her arm across the table and pushing her sleeve up to expose the bracelet that Sokka had given her when he asked her to marry him. It was a solid, round cuff, shaped out of a single piece of bone. Sokka had carved patterns into it – some square, some round, some that Katara recognized and some that she didn’t.

“What’s this one mean?” Katara asked, pointing to a long line carved the entire length of the bracelet.

“On Kyoshi, we use it to symbolize long life. Sokka added a few embellishments, though.”

“I see that. These little offshoots look like Water Tribe symbols.”

“They are. And here—” she flipped her wrist over to show the other side of the bracelet, “—is the star I was born under. And next to it is the star that Sokka was born under.” Sokka had carved the constellations to form a circle. Their shapes were different – hers made of sharp lines, his made of curving ones. But, beneath Sokka’s steady, persistent hand, they shaped themselves into a perfect circle.

There was a sudden crash outside followed by a low “oof.” Then there were the shrieks of delighted three-year-old twin girls.

A dripping wet Zuko appeared in the doorway a moment later, looking very much like a drowned cat. He ushered Seya and Yona inside ahead of him and shivered, “W-w-w-waterbenders.”

Katara leapt from her seat to hug her nieces. “Really?! Both of them?!”

“Yah, Auntie Katara!” Yona said as she wriggled out of Katara’s hug.

“New Southern Waterbenders,” Katara marveled. “What can you guys do so far?”

“Get Unca Zuko wet!” Seya said.

“Clearly.” Katara looked over to Zuko who had discarded his wet mittens and parka and was warming his hands by the fire. “I’ll teach you some more things while I’m here,” she promised them. She pulled a small amount of water from her waterskin and twirled it around them. The girls giggled gleefully.

Katara moved to stand behind Zuko who was still shivering by the fire. “You know,” Katara said, picking icicles and snow out of his long hair, “you should wear your hair up while you’re here.” “In a braid or ponytail or something. It keeps the snow from collecting in long hair.”

“N-n-noted,” Zuko shivered, moving closer to the fire and breathing more life into it. Katara sat down behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head against his shoulder until he stopped shaking.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?” she asked softly. “Or tie it up for you?”

The twins appeared in a split second. “We can braid Unca Zuko’s hair!”

Katara laughed lightly and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Did you hear that, Zuko? They can braid your hair.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his cold-bitten cheek and felt the smile spread across his face.

“I’m all yours,” he whispered back before the twins tackled him.

*_*_*_*

Before climbing into bed that night, Katara pulled the ribbon that was holding her braid and ran her fingers through her hair to loosen it. Zuko put down the papers he had been reading and watched her curiously from the bed. He didn’t – couldn’t – miss the way Katara locked a heated gaze on him. She shook her hair out fully and let her curls cascade around her shoulders.

“I thought we were supposed to wear our hair up here,” he said coyly, pointing to his own haphazard braid, lovingly made by three-year-olds.

“We are.” Katara stripped out of her clothes and bindings and basked in the full attention he was now giving her.

“But I thought you might like—” She slid under the covers at the foot of the bed and began to massage up his calves. She slid upward to massage his thighs and settled between them. “—something—” She guided his hands into her hair before pulling at the waistband of his sleeping pants to free his already half-hard cock. “—to hold onto.”

The only sound he made was a sharp inhale when she wrapped a hand around him and stroked him to full hardness. When she was pleased with her work, she hummed appreciatively. Looking up at him through her lashes, she held his gaze as she swallowed him down. She hollowed her cheeks and flattened her tongue against the underside of his cock the way she knew he liked. He let her set the pace, his hands tugging lightly at her hair the only concession he allowed himself.

She appreciated the sentiment, but the feeling of his nails lightly scraping her scalp filled her with a dogged determination to break his resolve.

She sucked harder and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. When he moved a hand to the back of her head, she hummed encouragingly. His resulting curses were music to her ears.

When Katara came up for air, she was met with a pair of eyes nearly black with lust surrounded by a thin ring of burning gold. She felt a swell of pride as she lowered her head again and heard his labored breathing hitch when she licked a hot, wet line from base to tip. She lapped at his leaking head, tasting him on her tongue before taking all of him again. He gave a shallow thrust and Katara hummed happily. When he didn’t do it again, Katara tapped on his hip, a silent order. He thrust again and she tapped again and kept tapping until his cock bumped the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Katara, I’m—”

“Mhmmm.” She let the sound come from deep in her throat and he cursed again. She loved him like this—uninhibited. Zuko never was one for words. He preferred to let his actions speak for him. But Katara loved the rare occasions when he did speak his mind. And she loved the even rarer occasions when he let his mouth run in bed.

“Fuck, Katara. You’re so good to me. So hot and wet and mine. So perfect for me. Agni, I love you. Love the way you feel. Love the way you make me feel. So fucking good.”

She let her hands roam around his thighs to grab his ass, drawing him closer and giving an appreciative squeeze for every thrust.

Zuko grew quiet and the only sound in the night was the lewd sound of wet and sloppy sucking peppered with Zuko’s occasional grunts. It was his silence that told Katara he was close. He tugged at her hair, but she remained fixed in place and doubled her efforts for the final sprint. She could feel the tension building, the muscles of his thighs tightening, and his rhythm stuttering, but it was the choked off sound he made that told her he was there.

She swallowed everything he gave her, coaxing him through the waves of his orgasm and licking him clean when he was done. She sat back on her calves and swiped a finger across her chin to catch the little bit of his come that had dribbled there. She locked eyes with him as she popped it into her mouth.

“Never,” Zuko said quietly.

“Hm?” Katara crawled on top of him, planting kisses up his chest and along his scar as she went.

“I said, I’ll never get enough of you. Never. Ever.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere,” she said, laying on top of him, feeling comfortable, and safe, and warm, and content.

He kissed the top of her head and traced light patterns up and down her spine with one hand. She let her eyes fall closed and purred at his touch. She didn’t notice his other hand fiddling with the end of his braid until he gently flipped her onto her back and the black strands fell loosely over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he tossed his own hair ribbon off the bed.

“You’re going to need something to hold onto,” he said before diving under the sheets.

*_*_*_*

They ate dinner every night at Sokka and Suki’s house. They basked in the warm glowing happiness of simple family life. Seya and Yona tugged on Zuko’s sleeve every night as soon as he finished eating, begging him to come play. He was more than happy to oblige. But one night, near the end of their stay, when the twins came to him, he said, “Actually girls, I think you should show Auntie how you’ve been practicing your waterbending. Yona, go show Auntie what you can do,” he said, handing her a cup full of water and nudging both of them in Katara’s direction. Katara’s eyes lit up in equal part delight and suspicion. But, she was soon overwhelmed with shouts of “Watch me!” and “No, look! I can do it better!” to pay any mind to Zuko’s motivation for her distraction.

Zuko leaned across the table and whispered lowly, “Sokka, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Of course.”

“In private?”

“Oh, uh. Sure.” Sokka stood from the table and led them into the living room, out of earshot. “So, what’s up, buddy?”

*_*_*_*

Suki watched a hundred different emotions flit across Katara’s face as she watched Seya and Yona levitate a small orb of water. Pride, wonder, sorrow, happiness, disbelief, longing and optimism all held their place on her features before she took the thread of each and wove them together into a beautiful tapestry that could be called nothing other than “hope.”

“You two are amazing. You learn so fast,” Katara said.

“You were a bit of a natural, too, if I recall correctly,” Suki said.

Katara shrugged. “I’m just so happy that I’m not alone anymore.”

Suki opened her mouth to tell Katara that she had never been alone, but she thought better of it when she considered her meaning. Instead she said, “Never again. You’ve got me, these two knuckleheads,” she looked lovingly at her daughters who had fallen out of performance mode and into play mode and were now wrestling each other on the fur rug, “and that goofball over there.” They both turned to where Sokka and Zuko were having some whispered conversation. “And, if I’m not mistaken,” Suki watched Katara soften when she looked in Zuko’s direction, “you’ve also got that other lovable idiot over there.”

Katara sighed contentedly and Suki breathed a sigh of relief. The two dumbest smart people she knew had finally figured it out.

*_*_*_*

“Oh yeah, we have that here,” Sokka said loudly to Zuko who promptly clapped a hand over his mouth. He made an indignant sound at the censorship.

“Shut up!” Zuko glanced over his shoulder. Suki and Katara paid them no mind, engrossed in their own conversation. “This stays between us, got it?”

Sokka nodded.

“Now, where can I find it?”

*_*_*_*

In their last few days, Zuko would often disappear during the day, citing some hunting or fishing trip. Katara worked with Seya and Yona on some basic moves and started them on the idea of feeling the flow of energy. She talked to them about change and adaptability as they practiced and she would swear that beneath the glittering childish joy that Seya and Yona naturally exuded, there was a glimmer of understanding.

Their goodbyes were bittersweet. The heartache was gentle, and it broke over Katara as waves lap at the shore, persistent but kind.

She hugged her father tightly as they said goodbye on the dock.

“Here,” Hakoda said, handing her a wrapped object. The solid weight of it was a pleasant heaviness in her hand. “I hope it’s alright.”

“I’m sure it is,” Katara said, feeling the bone through its cloth wrap. She traced along its edges and felt no difference from when she had given it to her father. “What did you carve?”

“It’s on the inside of the cuff. I figured you should be the one to carve the outside. But, I wanted to put a small reminder on the inside. Something important that I’ve learned.” Hakoda unwrapped the cloth and held up the piece of bone that had now been shaped into a wrist cuff. He pointed to a pattern that now graced the inside of the polished bone. “It means ‘to return home.’”

“He’s never had much of a home,” she said quietly.

“He does now.”

*_*_*_*

When they returned to the Fire Nation, Zuko had an absurd number of meetings. Katara tied up his hair every morning, slotted the crown in his top knot and sent him on his way. He was occupied from morning until night.

But he never missed dinner.

“Have things settled down from our little escapade?” she asked one night, sipping her soup.

“More or less. I still have a mountain of work to catch up on, though.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“I don’t want to you to feel obliga—ow!” Katara pinched him.

“I don’t feel obligated, Zuko. You know that.”

“Yes, yes. I know that. I was more trying to spare you the horror of politics.”

“Spare me nothing. I want to do whatever you do.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. Why would anyone willfully trudge through the trenches of government?

But she was resolute. She didn’t back down. “Put me to work,” she said.

Katara needed to feel needed, he realized. Katara needed purpose. She had told him as much. A twinge of guilt pulsed through his veins as he realized that in choosing him, she had given up the one thing in life that had given her purpose. _But here she is asking for a new one_ , the newer, more rational part of his mind supplied.

Zuko thought for a moment before he spoke. He wanted to say this correctly. Words never were his strong suit. But, he wanted her to understand that not only did he love her, but that he respected her. He wanted her to know that he understood the things she had told him that night under the Southern Lights.

_Better to show than to tell_ , he thought.

“How about this? There are several things that you can help me with right now. But after that, I think you should be in charge of your own work. I don’t want you to feel like I’m delegating tasks to you. You tell me what you want to do and I’ll do everything on my end to get you what you need.”

“You’re giving me free reign?”

“I’m not _giving_ you anything, Katara. I think everyone would agree that you have more than proven yourself as a capable leader. If anything, you’d be doing the entire country a favor if you were to use your talents to help the Fire Nation.”

“Deal,” she said, extending a hand.

Zuko took her hand and formally sealed their agreement in the style befitting of two parties entering into a government contract. Then, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, because he wanted to. And because he could.

*_*_*_*

Katara began to sit in on council meetings. She quickly found that between her studying, her travels, and her experience, she kept pace with their discussions easily. She made a point of telling them so. Zuko made a point of not hiding his smirk every time she went off on them.

“And with that,” Zuko said from the head of the table, “Master Katara, I believe you have some updates for us on your work?”

“Yes. I intend to establish some basic services in the more remote parts of the country. Honestly, it’s reprehensible that there is such a difference between the quality of life in the capitol and that outside of it.”

“Indeed,” Zuko said and ten other heads around the table began to nod in agreement.

“I’m so glad you all feel that way,” Katara said, looking around and offering a smile. “I’d like to start with some health services and environmental protections.”

“And where do you intend to get the money for this?” A voice piped up from halfway down the table. It belonged to the very same outspoken councilor who had insulted Katara several weeks ago.

Katara inclined her head and Zuko narrowed his eyes.

“…Master Katara,” the councilor addended before clearing his throat. “How will this be paid for?”

“Ah, of course.” Katara’s voice was level and calm, the hallmark of confidence. Hers was a power intangible, proven not by a crown on her head or the position of her birth, but by influence hard-won and well-earned. “The budget for infrastructure and social services already exists. I’m simply redistributing some of it from the capitol outward.”

“You can’t possibly think that is a good idea—”

“Although,” Katara said, cutting him off, “you did make a good point several weeks ago, councilor. Perhaps I am simply not familiar enough with the Fire Nation. Tell me, what are the needs of your people outside the capitol?”

“I am not—”

“Have you been outside the capitol recently, councilor? Because I have. And I have seen need and now I have an opportunity to serve that need.”

“I do not disagree, but—”

“To do so, I’ll need more information. And, ah!” Katara clapped her hands as if she had just thought of the idea. “You’ll be the one to get it for me, councilor.”

The man stammered and looked to Zuko. “Sir?”

Zuko let him squirm a moment before saying, “I agree with Master Katara. You’re the perfect person for the job.”

The man slumped.

“Well,” Zuko said, “I believe that concludes our business for today. Thank you all.”

People stood and took their leave. Zuko offered Katara his arm as they left.

“Oh, and councilor?” Katara asked as she breezed past him on her way out. “Make sure to count each and every _peasant_.”

*_*_*_*

Weeks passed and they fell back into their comfortable routine. It was easy and natural. The only thing that wasn’t easy was finding the perfect moment. Zuko tried day after day, but it never felt quite right.

He must have tried a dozen times before the realization dawned on him: there would be no perfect moment. The universe wasn’t going to deliver it on a silver platter. No, this moment would be one he would have to craft himself.

_Fitting_ , he thought. There would be no intervention of fate, no guiding light, no dictation of when or where or how.

There would be none of that. There would be only Zuko and Katara and what they wanted.

*_*_*_*

Zuko found Katara in the garden around midday.

“You know you’re supposed to keep that thing on,” she scolded him as he approached without opening her eyes. How she knew that he had been fiddling with the pin in his hair, he had no idea.

“Who’s going to make me?”

“I will,” she said without missing a beat. “Just give me another few minutes.” She stretched lazily against the grass.

“Come make me, then.”

Her eyes snapped open, accepting his challenge. She rose to her feet and adopted a ready position, her body language playful.

Zuko laughed. Of course, this would be their way. Of course, this would be their moment. _Fitting_ , he thought.

He started toward her and she reacted faster than he thought possible. She darted to the side and then suddenly forward, crashing into him and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Katara wrestled her way on top of him. “There.” She grabbed either of his hands and pinned them above his head. “Now you have to listen to me,” she said, leaning down to kiss him.

“I’d do that anyway, but I do enjoy your methods,” he said, kissing her back. She fell against him and brought her hand to hold his. But, instead of interlacing their fingers together, she was met with a small round object in his palm.

“What is that?” Katara asked, suddenly serious. She quickly sat up and pulled him up with her.

“A ring,” he said, holding it out.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Well, you asked, so I—”

“You know what I meant, Zuko. Where did you get this? Why do you have this?”

“I made it. And I have it because I’d like to give it to you. But you need to let me talk first. You have a terrible habit—”

“I let you talk!”

“—of interrupting.”

Katara blushed and went silent before she grumbled, “Point taken.”

“Ready?” he asked. Katara nodded, adorably flustered. He never would have predicted that she would be the one who was nervous in this situation. Then again, he would never have predicted any of this.

Zuko took in the sight of her and tried to memorize everything about this moment. He wanted to remember this when he was ninety years old and looking back on his life. He wanted to remember the way she looked right now, the way he felt right now, the sunlight in her hair, the sound of the babbling stream. Every detail was just another in their story. And their story was nothing special, nothing epic. It was the simple story of a boy who fell in love with a girl. But it was the details that made it special. It was the details that made it theirs.

“You told me that you needed four things to be happy. And I want you to have all of those things. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that you do. But, I was wondering,” he held the ring up to glitter in the light. “I was wondering if I could make it three?”

“Three?” she asked, confused.

“Yes. You said you wanted me, family, purpose and freedom. I was hoping we could consolidate the first two.”

“You want…?” Her words fell away quickly. 

“Yes.”

His answer, sure and simple, was everything that she needed to hear.

“Come here.”

Katara obeyed her own command as much as Zuko did, lunging forward to crash their lips together. She wrapped her arms around whatever part she could reach and pulled him into a deep kiss. She kissed him breathless and when they came apart, he panted and smiled at her. “Is that a yes? Will you marry me, Katara?”

“Yes.”

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHOO-CHOO!!!!!!  
> ALL ABOARD THE FLUFF TRAIN.
> 
> Y’all, we’ve suffered enough. Anyone who disagrees can meet me in the denny’s parking lot at 3:16am. (ง'̀-'́)ง THEY DESERVE HAPPINESS AND I’M GONNA GIVE IT TO THEM.
> 
> Anyway, have some sweetness to salve your soul. It’s just gonna be all good things from here on out. Here’s the good part of the countdown where the anesthesia is hitting you and everything is all ~~~~~~~~~wonderful~~~~~~~~~~ just before you fall asleep.
> 
> [This](https://www.etsy.com/listing/821070579/fire-ice-white-opal-inlay-rose-gold?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=inlay+opal+ring&ref=sc_gallery-1-1&plkey=547377569c5c7f0fba0e61ea49cf4ade1fc9095b%3A821070579&frs=1) is what Katara's ring looks like.  
> 
> 
> lmk what you think!!!!! your comments make my fucking day.


	18. Three, you and me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get in losers, we're getting married.

* * *

* * *

_you must love  
_ _in such a way  
_ _that  
_ _the person  
_ _you love  
_ _feels free_

_-thich nhat hanh_

* * *

* * *

_Fine,_ Katara reluctantly admitted as she settled onto a plush cushion after a long day. _You were right, Zuko. This is nice. Much better than sitting on the hard ground._

Katara was out in the countryside, overseeing construction of a new health clinic to serve the rural population that previously had no access to healthcare. She insisted on going herself and Zuko didn’t protest. He did, however, insist that she bring along a few more luxuries than she was used to. A soft cushion and a thickly padded sleeping mat decorated her tent thanks to him.

Papers were scattered about her makeshift desk – a blueprint for the clinic, a census report carefully addressed to “Master Katara” and signed, “At your service,” from Katara’s favorite councilor. Budgets, grants, maps, and the like were littered everywhere. But these did not capture her attention at the moment. At the current moment, Katara was preoccupied with the flow of ink from her brush as she wrote:

_To Zuko, just Zuko, my Zuko,_

_Hello, love. Things are going well here. We’ve broken ground and I think I’ll only stay a few days more to make sure construction is going smoothly before I return home. I’ve met with several healers who are ecstatic about this new clinic. I’ve also been to the village many times and I’ve seen a few patients of my own. But it will be better when they can have more continuous care._

_It makes me happy to write you again under much happier circumstances than the last letters we exchanged._

_Though as much as it pains me, those years are part of our story. And our story has had its twists and turns. I may not know every turn we will take in our future, but I do know this:_

_We make our own destinies._

_I make you mine._

_But we are touched by fate._

_Everything in our lives has brought us to this moment. And though some parts have been excruciatingly painful, I wouldn’t trade them. I wish I hadn’t hurt you. I wish you hadn’t lied to me. But do I really? Those things have molded us. They’ve taught us things about each other that we may not have learned otherwise. And I want to know every part of you. The broken pieces, the things you hide, the things that you think no one could ever love, I will love._

_I love you. All of you. Even the parts I don’t know yet._

_I’ll love you always. I’ll love you when you beat me at sparring. I’ll love the look on your face when I beat you. I’ll love you when we’re old and grey. I’ll love you in every form you take. I love you and I trust you. You have my whole heart for my whole life._

_-Katara_

*_*_*_*

In the early light of the next morning, Katara waded into the water of a nearby stream, relishing the feeling of flowing water against her skin. She bathed and bended lazily and enjoyed the peace.

Footsteps approached slowly, cautiously. Katara turned at the sound to find a young woman that she recognized from the village approaching her, head bowed. She held something in her hands.

“M-m-m…” The woman stumbled over her words.

“Yes?” Katara asked, trying to remember her name. When the young woman didn’t speak again, Katara stepped out of the water and wrapped a robe around herself. “Is something wrong, Jiru?”

“Not at all,” the woman said, looking embarrassed.

“Then…?” Katara prompted, gently. She laid a hand on her shoulder and she visibly relaxed.

“I’m sorry. I just – I wasn’t sure…How would you like to be addressed?”

“Addressed?”

“As ‘Master Katara’ or as ‘Lady Katara’?”

“Why would you call me lady?”

“As future Fire Lady, you’d have that title.”

Katara hummed. “Just Katara is fine.”

“Oh no,” Jiru was quick to say, “you’ve earned your titles. You should be treated with all the respect that they command.”

“I don’t think respect comes from titles.”

“That’s true. There’s no power in the word itself. But we use them because we want to show that we recognize what you have gone through to earn them. And we respect that.”

“Earn, huh? Is me marrying Zuko ‘earning’ that title then?”

Jiru was thoughtful for a moment before she said, “May I speak freely?”

Katara nodded.

“I have lived in this village my entire life. I remember what life was like before the war ended. Back then, everything we grew and made was taken to feed and supply the soldiers. Our homes were crumbling because we had no money to fix them. People were sick and exhausted.”

Katara grimaced but Jiru kept speaking.

“But then the war ended, thanks to you and the Avatar and Fire Lord Zuko and the others. And life got better. Not all at once. But we get to keep our harvest now. We get to sell it. And people aren’t as overworked anymore. That’s all thanks to Fire Lord Zuko. He is firm and fair. He tries to do the right thing and is willing to admit his mistakes. That’s something we haven’t seen from our Fire Lord in a long time. He earned his title, and he has earned our respect.”

Her heart glowed a little at that. “He is a good man.”

“He is. And we would love whoever he chose as a wife. But, with you, it is more than that. You have already done so much for us. You helped set us free from tyranny. And you’ve worked tirelessly for us since you got here. I mean, look at you. You’re here now, building a place to heal the sick. You, too, have earned our respect. You’ve earned the title of Fire Lady not because you will marry the Fire Lord but because you are a woman of the people. You are who we want for our Fire Lady.”

For one of only a very few times in her life, Katara was speechless.

“Master Katara? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Katara said slowly. Her thoughts tumbled around in her head, but her eyes were trained on the way her ring would catch the yellow light of the rising sun and throw it back as a rainbow of color. Zuko had made it himself with fire gold and ice opal. He had hidden his process brilliantly. Katara never knew how he spent every spare minute of his day working on it. She never knew how he fiddled with it during their dinners or how he agonized over its design for weeks. In the end, he decided on a simple channel of opal set into a golden band.

It glinted no matter which angle she held her hand.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Katara said again, clearer this time. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“What was it that you came to tell me?”

“Oh! This came for you,” she said, handing her a letter.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” She smiled and nodded politely. “And one more thing?”

“Yes?” Katara turned the letter over and found a black seal bearing a proud Z and her heart soared.

“You’ll always be both,” Jiru said, “Master Katara and Fire Lady Katara.”

*_*_*_*

_To Katara the powerful, Katara the unstoppable, Katara the beautiful, Katara my bride, Katara the everything._

_Dear Katara, my everything,_

_I am glad to hear that things are going well. Of course they are with you at the helm. I look forward to seeing the new clinic. We’ll have to both go out there for the opening._

_You’ve only been gone for a few days, but I miss you already. When you are away, I feel like a part of me is missing. Come home safe to me._

_I’ve been thinking about our past and our future. We have been so many things to each other – enemies, forced allies, friends, strangers, opponents, lovers. We have been all of these things at one point or another. We carry these versions of ourselves with us always. But we are no longer any single one of these things._

_Now? Now, we are much more. Now, we are partners. I am yours and you are mine. I still can’t believe the last half of that sentence sometimes. I feel like the luckiest person in the world._

_But I know it’s true. I know it’s true because you show me every day. I love you for that. I love you for everything you have done for me. I love you for everything you are. I love you for everything you are yet to be. I trust you and I love you._

_I cannot wait to marry you. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I will ever want. You are the water that soothes my soul. You are the flame in my heart. You are my everything._

_See you soon. Though not soon enough._

_-Zuko_

*_*_*_*

Two days later, Zuko sat on the floor of the palace library surrounded by a ring of open books and scrolls. He flipped through pages and sighed. There was frustratingly little information to be found on Southern Water Tribe wedding traditions. He had wanted to surprise Katara by doing some of the wedding planning while she was away. But he had made pitifully little progress.

As if summoned by his thinking of her, Katara breezed in at that moment. She moved with such grace that she was across the room and stepping over the ring of books before he had even processed that it was indeed her.

“Hi, you,” she said as she kissed the top of his head and settled herself next to him on the floor.

She didn’t get to stay upright for long. He surged forward and knocked her over, landing on top of her. He mumbled back a greeting between kisses.

She wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his hips, and it felt too much like coming home.

“I missed you,” Zuko whispered into her hair.

“I missed you, too,” Katara murmured into his neck.

They stayed there a long moment, among the mess, unmoving and uninterested in anything beyond the taste of their mingled breath.

“I didn’t know you’d be home today. I would have been there to greet you.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” he said, helping her sit up again. “Though, I wish I were better at surprising you.” He gestured to the circle of books.

Katara’s eyes roamed over the books and scrolls laid open around them, clearly trying to decipher the meaning of his research. The corners of her mouth lifted as she scanned and found the common theme.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“I was trying to figure out how Southern Water Tribe weddings work. But I’ve been reading for hours and I can’t find anything,” he held up a book and shook it as if to punish it for its uselessness.

“Hours?” Katara giggled. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“You weren’t here. Besides, I wanted to educate myself. But I’ve read most of these books cover to cover and none of them say anything about Southern wedding traditions.”

“That makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Most of our traditions are passed down orally. What you see here probably wasn’t written by us. And, if I had to guess,” she said, taking the book from his hands, “I’d venture that most of these were written within the past 100 years?”

“Oh,” Zuko said simply.

“Yeah. Not our cultural peak.”

“I’m sorry.”

Katara shook her head. “We’ll give them something to write about.” She shifted slightly and pulled something from her pocket. “Starting with this,” she said, placing it in her palms to present to Zuko.

The front half of Zuko’s mind recognized the object immediately – it was a hand-carved cuff made of whale bone. They were betrothal gifts in the Southern Tribe. Once accepted, they signified an unbreakable promise – a bond that goes bone-deep. They were always unique, carved by their designer with whatever patterns or elements they found meaningful.

The back half of Zuko’s mind was a frenzy of emotion – awe and love and something that put a lump in his throat. He knew she loved him – she had agreed to marry him. He knew that she wanted him, that she trusted him, that she had welcomed him into her life. But this? This was more than all of that. This was Katara literally carving out a place for him in her life that only he could fill. A tear prickled at his eye.

He stared at the object in her hands as logic and emotion battled in his head. Logic told him to say something. Emotion told him to wrap her in his arms and not let go.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement at his surprised silence. There was a challenge in her voice when she said cleared her throat and said, “You stole my thunder the other day.”  
  


Zuko knew she was teasing him. She held the cuff out toward him, and he matched her tone.

“I’m pretty sure it was lightning, but okay,” he said, finally tearing his gaze away from the details of the cuff to meet her eyes.

Katara huffed and it was his turn to laugh. She gave him a good-natured glare and reached to take his hand. “Before you so rudely proposed to me, I had been working on this for months.” She laid it in his hands. It was substantial, not heavy, just a pleasant weight. “I didn’t know you’d beat me to the punch.” Her ring sparkled in the light as she pulled her hand away.

“Please forgive me, my love.” He turned it over in his hand and admired the intricate patterns she had so lovingly cut into the bone. “Will you tell me what it means?”

She did. She told him that they used to be much more common in the South, but that the tradition had fallen out of common practice during the war. She told him about the way Sokka had pestered Gran Gran relentlessly to tell him about what she knew of them so he could make one for Suki. She told him how she had then grilled Sokka on everything he knew and how she had studied Suki’s cuff. (Zuko didn’t tell her how he had also pressed Sokka for information on where he could find a gemstone native to the South Pole. He could imagine how Sokka must have bitten his tongue once he found out about both of their plans and how he must have nearly exploded from the stress of keeping not one, but two secrets.)

Katara told him how she had sculpted a piece of rough bone into the polished piece of art that he now held in his hands. She told him about the patterns that she chose and what they meant. She told him that it was meant to be worn for life.

“So,” Katara concluded. “Do you accept all that? Do you accept my proposal, Zuko?”

A beat.

A heartbeat long. No longer.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then…” she said, sliding it over his hand until it settled comfortably on his wrist, “…this is now yours. As am I.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek before laying her head against his shoulder.

Zuko admired the cuff for a moment before Katara’s words washed over him. “Wait,” he said suddenly, “what do you mean by ‘as am I’?”

There were a few vibrations from his shoulder that had the cadence of Katara trying to stifle a laugh.

“You don’t know anything about Southern weddings, do you?”

“I already told you that I don’t.”

Katara giggled and made no attempt to hide it. She lifted her head to face him. “That was it. We’re married now.”

A strange giddiness fluttered through him at the thought. “Really?”

“No, I’m kidding. I mean, it is that simple, but that wasn’t it.”

“Oh,” he said, deflating a little. “So, what is a Southern Water Tribe wedding, then?”

“It begins with this,” she said, tapping on the bone that now encircled his wrist. “This binds us together. After that, all we need is a simple spiritual ceremony.”

“That sounds nice,” Zuko said, stroking her hair. “What is the ceremony like?”

“We don’t have many rules. All you need is the couple, the community, and to ask the blessing of the spirits.” After a moment she added, “And we write our own vows.”

“I like that.”

“What about here? What’s expected from us here?”

“The proceedings aren’t very complicated either. Weddings here are basically an excuse to have a huge party. But there is one important ritual. And it’s encouraged to be performed as frequently as possible before the wedding to make sure the couple is…” he paused to find the right word, “…compatible.”

“What do you mean?”

Something flashed in his eyes. “It’s easier to show than to tell,” he said, pushing her lightly until she laid back. He covered her body with his own and leaned down to nibble at her ear. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“Please.”

*_*_*_*

They kept their wedding as small and simple as humanly possible. Zuko fought with his council for days about “not wanting to put on a show” and “You’re Fire Lord! Your whole life is a show!” In the end, they agreed that the ceremony could be an intimate affair, but the reception afterward must include all of the world leaders and Fire Nation nobles.

They arranged for it to be held as soon as everyone they loved could be convened in one place.

Toph and Aang arrived together a few days before the wedding, followed by Katara’s envoy.

Zuko and Katara was there to greet the group as they disembarked. Sokka helped Suki down the ramp and was careful not to jostle the bundle in her arms. Seya and Yona appeared suddenly behind them and squeezed between their legs. Sokka barked at them to be more careful but they were already halfway up the dock, barreling toward Katara who had rushed forward to meet them.

“Auntie!” they squealed.

She dropped to her knees and let the twins tackle her. They both talked at once, seemingly trying to describe to her every moment of their lives since she had last seen them. They chattered on and on until they spotted the figure making his way up the dock.

“UNCA!!!”

“Uh-oh.” It was all Zuko had time to say before they glomped onto him.

Katara left him to wrangle the twins and went to meet her father, grandmother, Sokka and Suki.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, embracing them. The bundle of blankets in Suki’s arms squirmed and made a sound and Sokka pulled the blanket back a bit.

“Katara,” he said, beaming, “I’d like you to meet our son.”

“Your son,” she repeated with reverence. “Hello, little one,” she said, tickling his nose.

“You were wrong, madame fortune teller,” Sokka said, referring to Katara’s teasing letter from what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Katara laughed, “I should have known better than to question fate.”

“Fate schmate,” Sokka said, waving a dismissive hand. “I worked hard to get him.”

“Yeah,” Katara agreed, looking back up the dock to where Zuko was helping Seya and Yona into the palanquin. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

*_*_*_*

The night before the wedding found the group gathered genially around a bonfire in the courtyard.

Hakoda and Gran Gran had bidden their goodnights and corralled the young kids until it was only Aang, Toph, Suki, Sokka, Katara and Zuko. It was well past midnight, and they were still up, laughing, reminiscing, and taking turns ripping on Zuko and Katara for being clueless.

“Remember the time we saw them running through the halls holding hands the day before the coronation?” Aang laughed.

“Yes. And you laughed exactly like you’re doing now,” Suki chimed in. “Meanwhile I had to hold Sokka back.”

“Oh, excuse me for wanting to protect my fifteen-year-old sister!” he protested.

“You’re welcome,” Suki said, turning to face Zuko and Katara.

Zuko was too mortified to speak. Katara mouthed a “thank you” back.

“Oh, that’s nothing. You should have felt how they were both shaking in their boots back in Ba Sing Se,” Toph said.

“We were there, Toph. We saw them,” Aang said.

Katara groaned. Zuko buried his head in her shoulder.

“Yeah, but you should have felt how crazy they both went when Zuko gave her a cup of tea.”

“That better not be a euphemism,” Sokka said.

“’s’not.” Zuko’s voice was muffled by the fabric of Katara’s shirt.

“It’s not,” Katara interpreted, petting his head. “Now, if you’re all done torturing us—”

“We’re not,” Toph interrupted.

“Never,” Aang said.

“Not after all the crap you put us through,” Suki added.

“ow’n’we’ake’up’tyou?”

“What did he say?”

“He asked, ‘how can we make it up to you?’”

The group laughed gently and exchanged a knowing look.

“Just take care of each other.”

*_*_*_*

For the first time since he had been granted the pleasure of doing so, Zuko did not linger in bed after sunrise to wait for Katara to wake up. Weeks ago, Katara had told him about some tradition that required not seeing each other the day of the wedding. He told her that he was sick of anticipation. But he abided anyway.

He kissed her cheek and whispered an “I love you,” in her ear before slipping out of bed. She made a contented sound but did not wake.

He dressed in loose clothing and made his way to the garden to meditate. He found that he now preferred the sound of running water to silence.

Zuko made it most of the way through his routine before sounds starting creeping into his awareness. He cracked open an eye and saw workers beginning to set up for the ceremony. And darting deftly among them were two toddlers. Seya and Yona ran in circles around the garden, shouting and causing general mayhem.

Zuko joined the chaos. He caught Yona first and she shrieked with delight as he lifted her to his shoulders.

“Princess Yona,” he fake-scolded. “What are you doing? Don’t you know it’s not a princess’s place to walk anywhere?”

Seya appeared and tugged on the corner of his shirt. “No fair! I wanna be a princess too!”

“You already are. Princess Seya, I’d be honored to serve you. Hop on,” he said, kneeling and adjusting Yona so that he could give them both a piggy-back ride.

The girls’ laughter announced their arrival far before anything else would have. He set them down at the table where Aang, Toph, Sokka, Suki, Iroh, Hakoda, and Gran Gran were eating breakfast. Iroh laughed merrily at the sight.

“More rides!” the twins demanded as soon as their feet touched the floor.

“Of course, Princesses. Later,” Zuko promised them. They pouted but scampered away.

“Princesses, huh?” Sokka asked, quirking a brow at him.

“They’ll always be Princesses in this palace.”

“How d’ya figure?”  
  


Zuko shrugged. “They’re foreign dignitaries, Sokka. I’m just being diplomatic.”

“So, what does that make me?”

“Their chauffeur?” Zuko ventured.

“That’s it.” Sokka lunged to put Zuko in a headlock. No one at the table batted an eye.

*_*_*_*

An earthy scent tickled her nose as Katara woke up. She opened her eyes and was surprised not to find Zuko beside her as she had grown so used to. Instead, on his pillow lay a small flower made of rings of small purple flowers on a single stem.

_Lavender?_ _Why would he leave me lavender?_ Katara wondered, examining it closer.

No, it didn’t look quite like lavender. The flowers were darker and bigger.

_Ah,_ she thought, recognizing the flower. _He wouldn’t._

Blue salvia was for longevity and wisdom. She tucked it behind her ear and stretched to greet the day – her wedding day.

*_*_*_*

Around midday, a knock on the door interrupted Zuko’s fussing with his hair for the hundredth time. It was tied half up – the same way he always wore it, but he couldn’t help tweaking it this way and that, wanting it to be exactly perfect.

He’d been dressed for hours and was counting down the minutes until the ceremony. He was more than done with waiting.

“Come in,” he called.

“Son,” Hakoda greeted as he entered.

“Sir,” Zuko replied, startled but hoping that his voice didn’t betray him. (It did. He couldn’t lie to save his life.)

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, um,” Zuko swallowed thickly. “A bit nervous,” he admitted. “But ready.”

“That’s a good way to feel,” Hakoda said, shutting the door behind him.

The room’s windows were open, and they faced the garden. The bustle and chatter of last-minute preparations drifted upward and replaced what would have otherwise been an uncertain silence.

“May I see it?”

“See it?”

“The cuff that Katara made for you?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Zuko held out his arm. The cuff was a stark white contrast to the black of the royal armor that he wore. He liked how it stood out.

Hakoda examined it and smiled to himself. “She did a beautiful job. Did she tell you what the inside means?”

“The inside?” Zuko was confused.

“There’s a carving on the inside too. May I show you?”

Zuko nodded and pulled it off. Hakoda held it up and pointed along the inner edge. And there it was – a pattern made of a delicate line that grew steadily stronger.

“Katara asked me to do this part. She asked me to convey whatever I thought was important. It means ‘to return home.’ That’s something I’ve learned. I only wish I learned it sooner,” he said. And then more quietly, “I only wish I had more time.”

Hakoda handed him the cuff back. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times before he spoke again.

“Love your wife with everything you have. For your whole life. Trust her with everything you are. She will not abandon you; she will be braver and truer than you can imagine. She will be yours as you are hers.”

Zuko knew the story. He knew that this advice came from experience – experience not only of a love that had been lived, but a love that had been lost.

He slipped the cuff back on and offered Hakoda his hand. He shook it firmly and then pulled Zuko into a warm embrace.

*_*_*_*

Late afternoon light streamed into the garden. Warm sunlight dappled the paths and a light breeze tickled the leaves. Lanterns hung from the branches of the time-weathered trees and twinkled their lights like a thousand little well-wishes. A pebbled path led up the middle of the garden to the pergola that had been draped in a chiffon fabric that danced lightly in the breeze. To one side, the small stream sang a gentle song of flowing water. It was serene. An oasis for Zuko and Katara to rest after their long journey to reach each other.

Their closest friends and family were seated on cushions surrounding the pergola.

Zuko stood tall. He wore his royal armor – black plates trimmed with ornate swirls of gold. His tunic and trousers that peeked out from underneath were the traditional deep crimson. Attached to his shoulder plates was a long black cape that he had lined with a deep navy satin. His crown, tucked safely in his hair, glinted in the sunlight and although he looked poised and regal, he never felt more like himself. He waited with bated breath for Katara.

There was a collective gasp when she appeared. She wore a deep blue dress of watered silk that trailed behind her as she walked up the path. The sleeves were long and wide at their end, trimmed with embroidery. As she approached, the shapes and colors of the embroidery began to coalesce into flowers. Hand-stitched lavender and lilies and irises and orchids dotted the hem of her skirt and the edges of her sleeves.

Her hair was loose save for a braid on either side that held her beads. Her eyes shined a vital and vibrant blue, brought out by color of her dress. And her necklace – Kya’s necklace – hung in the hollow of her throat.

“Wow,” he whispered when she stepped up beside him.

“Wow yourself,” she whispered back as the officiant began to speak.

The ceremony was exactly as they had wanted and exactly as Katara promised – simple. The officiant welcomed the guests, thanked them for coming, and delivered a short speech.

“Today we bear witness to a unique union. One made possible only by love – Zuko and Katara’s love for each other, the love of their family and friends, and the love of their respective people. Theirs is a union that speaks to peace and understanding. It is one that demonstrates the power of forgiveness. And it is one that gives us hope for the future.

Their union is one that unites two cultures, two nations. But let us not forget that ultimately, it is the union of two individuals.

You fell in love by chance, but you’re here today because you’re making a choice. You both are choosing each other. You are choosing to unite your lives. You are choosing to make sacrifices for each other. But you will have sacrifices made for you. You are choosing to look out for one another, to be each other’s safe harbor, each other’s support, and each other’s home.

Will you commit to your choice of the other and your choice to enter into the bond of marriage?”

“I will,” Zuko said as he stood tall, glowing as only a man in love does.

“I will,” Katara echoed, her eyes sparkling with joy and hope.

“As is Southern Water Tribe tradition, the couple has written their own vows,” the minister said, stepping back to give them space.

Zuko held one hand out, palm up and Katara placed her hand in his. Katara held her other hand out, palm up and Zuko placed his hand in hers.

“Katara,” he started, “I love you for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart and passing over all the foolish, weak things you can’t help dimly seeing there. And for drawing out into the light all the beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite far enough to find.

I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my life, not a tavern, but a temple. Out of the works of my every day, not a reproach, but a song.

I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good. And more than any fate could have done to make me happy. You have done it without a word, without a touch, without a sign. You have done it by being yourself.

I will love you from this day until the end of my days. I will trust you. I will be faithful to you. I will honor you. I choose you now and I will choose you always. With these words and all the words of my heart, I marry you and bind my life to yours.”

Katara exhaled a shuddering breath as the weight of the moment fell upon her. It was so welcome but so heavy. It was like a crushing hug – necessary and too much at once. She was trying to steady herself when there was a small squeeze of her hand. Zuko lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss over the band of fire gold and ice opal on her finger. He locked eyes with her and took one breath in and out. She matched him.

And then she was steady.

And then she spoke,

“Zuko, I love you in ways you’ve never been loved. For reasons you’ve never been told. For longer than you think you deserved. And with more than you will ever know existed inside me.

In promising always, I promise you time. I promise to exercise our love, to stretch it large enough to embrace the unforeseen realities of the future. I promise to learn to love beyond the level of my instincts and inclinations, to love in foul weather as well as good.

I will change because of these promises. I will shape myself according to them; I will live in their midst and live differently because of them. I feel protected because of my promises to you. I will try some things and resist trying others because, having promised, I feel secure. Marriage – to you, my love – makes me free to see, to be, to love. My soul is protected; my heart has come home.

I will love you from this day until the end of my days. Today, I choose you. I accept you as you are, and I offer myself in return. As I have given you my hand to hold, I give you my life to keep.”

A moment passed – long and short at once, infinite and yet over too quickly – wherein tears welled and hands were grasped together and two hearts found their home together, and finally, finally, _finally_ , they were one.

“The gods and the spirits accept these vows as you have promised them. They bless your union. Now, you may stand before them and these honored guests and seal your vows with a kiss.”

They met, as they so very often did, in the middle. He reached for her and she reached for him. But this time, they were not opposing forces. They were equally aligned. Both reaching in the same direction toward an unpredictable but undeniably welcomed future.

And when they kissed, she made a sound that was his name in the language of love.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refine me and call me maple syrup because I am a huge sap. Although I may have out sapped myself. Oof that was a lot of sweet tenderness. ANYWAY.
> 
> Notes, notes, notes:
> 
> 1\. These letters, like the letters back at the end of Seven, were very easy to write because they were a lovely way for me to summarize our characters’ journeys.
> 
> Katara says, “I love you and I trust you.” Compare this to Zuko who says, “I trust you and I love you.” I had them say the same thing because they do both truly feel the same way. 
> 
> But the order is switched.
> 
> Katara trusted Zuko first. Trusting wasn’t really the difficult thing for her. She placed her trust in him back in Ba Sing Se. And he proved himself to her eventually by the end of book 3. But, it was more difficult for her to love him. That’s the part that took work for her. (Yes, I know Katara had a hard time trusting him for a little bit between the end of book 2 and most of book 3, but I am now talking about the entire course of their relationship throughout this fic.)
> 
> On the flip side, we have Zuko. Zuko loved Katara first. He saw her for who she was, and he fell in love with her compassion, her boldness, and her strength. But for him, the challenge was learning to trust. 
> 
> They each put the sentiment that they consider more personally important first. So, for Katara, she considers love more important because it was harder for her. Thus, she says, “I love you and I trust you.” Zuko considers trust more important because it was harder for him. So, he says, “I trust you and I love you.” They both get across the same point, but the way the sentences are worded reflects the journeys our characters have been on.
> 
> 2\. The words that Zuko uses to describe Katara in the opening of his letter are the words that he used all the way back in Ten when he first learned her name. Back then he thinks, “Before she had been the girl who travels with the Avatar. Fierce. Loyal. Powerful. But now she was Katara. Unstoppable. Unnecessarily kind. Beautiful.” Zuko has often thought of Katara as so many things. He thinks she is incredible. He’s used a hundred different words to describe her throughout the course of this fic. He’s absolutely enamored, y’all. That poor boy is desperately, head-over-heels in love.
> 
> 3\. A blue salvia (sage flower) looks like a sprig of lavender. But the meaning of a blue salvia is long life, wisdom, and good health. It’s a perfect wish for their wedding day. 
> 
> The flowers on Katara’s dress: lavender (silence and devotion), lilies (return of happiness, trust), irises (hope, trust, valor), and orchids (love and fertility).
> 
> 4\. Katara’s vows say “Marriage – to you, my love – makes me free to see, to be, to love.” This is a callback to what Aang told Katara at the caldera edge all the way back in Five, continued. Aang tells Katara, “You can unshackle each other of your pasts. Let go. And so comes love.” Katara asks, “Then what?” and Aang says, “You’ll be free. To do whatever you need to do. To see. To be. To love.”
> 
> I think this is nice for several reasons. First is that it shows that despite how hard-headed she seems, Katara really does listen. Secondly, I like the imagery of “unshackling” each other and then the reference to being “free.” I used a lot of imagery related to caged animals or prisoners when I describe how Zuko and Katara felt when they weren’t on the same page (back in Six and Five). So, this little bit of Katara’s vow is very meaningful. It shows that she understands that they have both truly let go and that they are both now free. To be. To see. And to love.
> 
> 5\. Zuko’s vows include the poem “Love” by Roy Croft.
> 
> lmk whatcha thought. your comments brighten up my horribly gray winter days. ❤️🧡💛


	19. [unchained]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, y'all. Have a gratuitous smut chapter because Two is giving me trouble.

* * *

* * *

_you have such a pretty mouth  
_ _to feed it only kisses  
_ _would be a wasted opportunity_

_-michael faudet_

* * *

* * *

Zuko offered Katara his arm as they stepped down from the pergola. Their friends and family gathered around them, offering their well-wishes and congratulations.

“Toph,” Katara said slowly when she and Aang swooped in for a hug, “are you crying?” True enough, there were tears gathered on her lashes and one trailing down her cheek.

“Shut up!” Toph brought one hand up to rub the tears from her eyes and swung the other out to punch Zuko in the arm.

“Ow! What did _I_ do?”

“This is both of your faults!” she said, punching Katara too.

Aang grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her a step back. He produced a handkerchief from his sleeve. “I think,” he said, handing it to Toph who accepted in appreciatively, “what Toph is trying to say is that was a beautiful ceremony. And we are very happy for you.” He elbowed her lightly.

“It was nice,” Toph abbreviated.

“Very nice,” Suki agreed, her arm around a similarly teary-eyed Sokka.

Katara giggled at her brother who sniffled loudly. Aang searched his pockets for another handkerchief but came up empty. Suki patted her husband’s head soothingly.

“Well then,” Zuko said, clearing his throat and knowing that his and Katara’s deeply intimate words had just reduced the world’s most formidable warriors to weeping messes, “why don’t we all get freshened up before the reception?”

*_*_*_*

The celebration was set to begin at sunset. That gave them barely an hour from the end of the ceremony until they were expected to entertain a hall full of people for an entire night.

Zuko led Katara by the hand away from the garden. The palace was bustling with activity; the halls were filled with servants setting up the great hall for tonight’s festivities who were nonetheless never too busy to greet them with a deep bow and a bright, “Congratulations, my lord and lady.”

Zuko nodded and smiled politely, thanking them each by name but all too aware of the precious minutes ticking away before they were due back. He had experienced enough of these affairs to know they dragged mercilessly long into the night with people vying for his attention the entire time. He held no illusions that this affair, his wedding celebration though it may be, would be any different.

He abandoned his quest to make it all the way back across the palace to their chambers and instead ducked into a spare room, pulling Katara in behind him.

As soon as the door shut behind her, he spun and pinned her against it, kissing her with all the intensity and passion that he couldn’t in front of an audience.

Katara matched him, melting into him, and moaning into his mouth when he palmed her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

“Zuko,” she said when his hands skimmed across her collarbones, over her shoulders, and down her arms, “we can do this later.” She shivered when her eyes fluttered open and she was met with a molten golden gaze, dark with desire.

“Later isn’t now,” he said lifting her hands to his face and pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against her palms. He traced his tongue lightly over the edges of the scars on her palms. His silent question was deafening as he moved the sleeves of her dress to kiss the delicate skin on the inside of her wrists.

“And right now,” he mouthed at her neck, whispering into her ear, “I want my wife.”

“Fuck.” Katara tilted her head to the side, giving him more access.

Zuko kissed and nibbled along the curve of her jaw while he pressed his body in line with hers, rocking against her. He felt the quickening of her pulse as he moved their hips together, once, twice, his cock already hard and throbbing against his thigh.

Katara whined low in her throat. Zuko felt it more than heard it. He slid his hands down her back, squeezing her ass before he picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips and grinded against him roughly. Searching for more friction, Katara hitched her skirt up around her waist to lessen the layers between them.

_Fuck_ , he wanted to take her here and now. And if Katara’s breathless pleas were anything to go by, she wanted the exact same. _But_ , the tiny sliver of rationality left in his brain argued, he wanted to spend their first time making love as husband and wife methodically taking her apart, worshipping her, and showing her in actions what he had promised her in words.

They didn’t have enough time for that, but he could at least begin by kneeling before the altar of his wife. Growling, Zuko scooped her up and set her on a desk along one wall of the room. He sunk to his knees before her and pushed himself between her legs, breathing in deeply the scent of her. He kissed her through her bindings, moving along the inside of her thigh until he reached the strip that would unwind them. He tugged at it with his teeth, tearing it away from her skin until she was bare.

Warm fingers caressed down her legs and came to rest behind her knees, pulling her forward until he was satisfied with their positions. His breath was hot against her and the subtle shift of her hips betrayed her impatience.

“Zuko,” she whined again. “ _Please._ ”

Acquiescing, he lapped at her clit gently. Only a few strokes of his warm tongue had Katara threading her fingers through his hair, caught between the desire to toss her head back and moan and the need to watch his head move between her legs.

“So beautiful,” Zuko murmured, rubbing light circles on her clit with his thumb and teasing her entrance with his fingers. “You’re always beautiful, but today?” Another lick on her clit and his fingers slipped inside her. He lapped at her slowly, savoring her. He spoke only when her taste lingered on his tongue. “Today you are radiant. Stunning. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He punctuated each word with the slow in and out motion of his fingers. “Katara,” he said, curling his fingers. She cried out, tightening her legs over his shoulders, drawing him closer, begging for more.

He drew out her pleasure, licking up into her until she was trembling, her fingers grasping aimlessly in his hair. She moaned his name as if it were a secret between them – and it was. No one else in the world would ever know this Katara. She gave herself openly, willingly to him and he was drunk on her.

Katara propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. She was close, he knew; he could feel it in the quiver of her thighs, the tightness around his fingers. She writhed above him and begged again so beautifully that he was physically incapable of refusing her. He drew his name on her clit and her already ragged breath stuttered to a halt as he circled the “O.”

She came with a silent scream, her legs tightening around his head as he lapped up every bit of her pleasure until she collapsed backward, unable to hold herself up any longer.

“Fuck,” she breathed, staring up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. 

Zuko echoed that sentiment, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood.

Katara came back to awareness and sat up, smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt and letting it fall to the ground again. She pulled him into a kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. Zuko groaned, painfully aware of his own arousal. But when Katara reached for him, he side-stepped.

Her brow furrowed. “What about you?”

His voice was tight as he grappled for control. “As much as I’d like to spend all evening alone with you—” Zuko said, drinking in the sight of her disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips, “—and believe me, I would _really_ like to,” his eyes lingered on her still heaving chest, “we have guests to entertain.”

They both turned toward the window to catch a glimpse of the sun just beginning to kiss the horizon.

“Come on,” he offered his hand to her. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

*_*_*_*

There were a thousand things that Katara loved about Zuko (and she had already said more than a fair share of them today.) She loved his duality – the way he matched her, the way he was commanding yet humble, the way he was soft and fierce in the same breath. And, she realized as she watched him move easily amongst the crowd, she loved how effortlessly he could transition from belonging to her to belonging to the rest of the world, whom he had also promised his life to.

He was lover and leader, her husband and her political partner, her best friend and her greatest ally.

Yes, he was all of these things all wrapped up into his beautiful form of Zuko, just Zuko. Yes, his broad shoulders held burdens well. Yes, his golden eyes could see through anyone. Yes, his calloused but warm hands shaped the lives of millions of people.

Yes, he was regal and perfect.

But he was _hers_ , damn it. And _dear Spirits above_ , all she wanted right now was to fuck him.

But first they had to get through this party.

They took their time greeting their guests, Zuko pausing to introduce Katara to all the Fire Nation nobles. He presented her as “my wife, Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.” They smiled and bowed as he listed off her accomplishments.

By the fourth or fifth time, she whispered harshly, “Stop listing off my life story.”

His eyes sparkled. “Oh sorry, you don’t like it in chronological order? I can do alphabetical. Or perhaps by location?”

“Zuko,” she chastised, hitting him in the arm.

“I’m not going to stop,” he said with a smile. “You should be recognized and appreciated for your accomplishments. These are our people, Katara. They need to know how incredible you are.”

“Zuko,” she said again, fondness swelling in her heart. _Great_ – now she wanted to fuck him _and_ kiss him.

Hours of mingling eventually gave way to dinner and thankfully, blessedly, Zuko and Katara had their own table. They sat at the front of the hall, presiding over the crowd from an elevated platform that partially obscured them from view.

In perhaps the first moment of calm since the ceremony, they sat side-by-side, taking a short breather from all the socialization. Zuko played idly with the embroidered flowers on the edges of her sleeves.

“These really are beautiful,” he said, admiring them.

“Thank you. I stitched them myself.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Hmmm…” Katara deadpanned. “Let’s see. I’ve got waterbending, healing, bloodbending, botany, cooking, sewing, politics, policy. Oh! I know!” she said, snapping her fingers. “Swords! I don’t have much experience with using weapons to fight.”

“Now you’re just showing off,” Zuko said, sipping his wine. “You know you don’t need weapons to kick someone’s ass.”

“Mhm,” she said, sneaking a hand under the table and resting it on his thigh. His muscles jumped almost imperceptibly beneath her touch.

“But,” he continued, his eyes flashing as her fingers danced lightly, coming to rest between his legs. “I have no doubt that—” he grunted as she palmed him through his trousers. He closed his eyes, composed himself, tried again, “I have no doubt that if you wanted to learn, you’d pick it up quickly.”

“That’s true. I am good with my hands.” She stroked him, hard and slow. He was so responsive, already growing hot and hard for her.

“Katara,” he breathed. “Later. _Please_.”

“Later isn’t now,” she reminded him.

Zuko cursed under his breath, slouching in his chair. “We can’t both disappear at the same time.”

“No, of course not,” Katara agreed, slipping her hand into his pants, her movements well hidden by their position and the tablecloth. “I’ll go first, and you follow.” Zuko hissed when she curled her fingers around him.

“When?” he choked out.

“Five minutes. Meet me in the hall. And don’t even think about standing me up,” she threatened, twisting her wrist the way she knew he liked. “If you’re not there in five minutes, I’ll come back in here and drag you out myself.”

*_*_*_*

Sure enough, he was there four minutes later, looking as stately and dignified as ever, save for the red flush of his cheek. Katara stepped forward from the shadows and he startled.

“Katara,” Zuko started. “We really shouldn’t be away from—”

She silenced him with a kiss, drawing him back into the shadows with her. They were hidden in the dark behind a pillar. The sconces on the wall cast low light, barely enough to see each other by. She pushed him up against the wall, his back hitting it with a dull thud.

Katara planted hot, wet kisses along his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, smelling the sweet spice of him. She smirked at the catch of his breath when she grabbed him through his trousers.

“I’m done sharing you tonight,” she said, dropping to her knees and fumbling for the waistband of his pants. “You’re mine.” She tugged them down just enough and licked her lips at the sight of his thick cock, a drop of precum already gathering at the tip. Without further preamble, she wrapped her lips around him and Zuko let out a long, drawn-out groan. She swirled her tongue around the tip, tasting him, before taking him all the way into her mouth and swallowing around him.

Zuko balled his fists and pounded them helplessly against the wall behind him. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head, watching his eyes screw shut and his jaw clench. His strangled sounds were music to her ears. It was only after several moments that she realized he was straining to speak. She backed off and looked up at him through her lashes.

“Fuck,” he panted, struggling to control his breath as she innocently batted her eyelashes at him. “I said, you never have to share me.” He placed his hand below her chin, tilting her head up to look at him fully. “I’m yours. Always.”

Warmth spread through her. Flushed down her cheeks and chest and into the pit of her stomach before finally settling between her legs. She was painfully aware of an aching emptiness there.

“Now,” Zuko said, holding her by the chin to guide her, “part those pretty lips for me.” She did, moaning as he pushed deeper and deeper along her tongue. She flattened her tongue, lavishing attention on the underside of his cock and encouraging his shallow thrusts with a pleased hum.

He looked beautiful like this, panting and perfectly wrecked for her. His posture, his poise, kept him straight-laced and proper most of the time, but Katara felt a certain pride that she was the only person privy to this side of him – that she was the only one capable of drawing out this side of him.

Zuko’s hands tangled in her hair as his hips stuttered. Katara swirled her tongue, once, twice before sucking hard. He came with a grunt, filling her mouth with his hot release.

He said her name over and over like a prayer.

And perhaps it was. Zuko was not a religious man by any means. There were few things he revered and even fewer that he held holy. But his sigh of content, the look of peace on his face told the story of the heavens like few things can.

Katara tucked him back into his pants and pushed to a stand. Zuko kissed her long and hard, flipping their positions until Katara was pressed up against the wall.

“I love you, Katara. I love you so much.”

*_*_*_*

Several pairs of eyes and more than a few smirks followed them when they reappeared. They were due on the dancefloor and they made their way over, hand-in-hand.

They swayed and twirled and stepped and swung to the crowd’s satisfaction, earning a round of applause after every song. Katara laid her head against Zuko’s chest, the realities of the day flittering through her mind as they danced slowly.

The steady drum of his heartbeat was loud in her ears as she basked in the moment – this moment of completeness. Her eyes scanned the onlookers and found the smiling face of her father looking back at her.

She lifted her head and Zuko looked down at her, concerned. But as he traced her line of sight, he let out a small “ah” and stepped away, leaving her alone for only a moment before her father stepped in.

“Dad.” Katara embraced her father warmly.

“Hi Katara,” Hakoda said, falling into step with the beat of the music. “Have I told you that you look beautiful today?”

Katara ducked her head, blushing just a touch. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“It’s worth mentioning again. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“But, more importantly than that, I’m so proud of you, Katara.” His blue eyes, so much like her own, were sincere and loving.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Your mother would be too,” he added, clutching her closer for a moment. “You’ve grown up to be such an incredible woman.”

He lifted his arm and she spun out and around, laughing freely. She felt light and warm.

*_*_*_*

“Congratulations, nephew,” Iroh said, clapping Zuko on the back.

Zuko pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, Uncle. For everything.”

“I’m just glad you both found your way. And then you found your way to each other.”

“Are those different things?”

“Who is to say? Destiny is a funny thing. There may have been a hundred different paths that would have led you here. There may have only been one. That is something we can never know.”

Zuko looked at Iroh with a puzzled expression. “That’s it? No cryptic words? No proverb?”

Iroh laughed heartily. “I didn’t know you were so fond of those.”

“You know how much I value your advice, Uncle.”

“Do I rank above the turtleducks?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, good. Then I will share this simple sentiment with you, nephew, that I hope by this point is neither proverbial nor cryptic: Enjoy the journey in its twists and turns, detours and derailments. You have no say in how the journey will end for the ending is inevitable. All you have are your everyday choices.” 

From across the room, Katara laughed joyously and Zuko’s heart sang to the melody.

*_*_*_*

Half-past midnight and Katara finally made it to their chambers. Zuko had lingered behind her to see a few important people off, waving her in front of him, promising he’d only be a minute. Katara peeled off layers of formality with every step toward the bed.

A shoe kicked off here. A dozen hairpins on the floor over there. A blue dress, lovingly stitched with hints of their past and hopes for the future, in a heap near the foot of the bed. Everything shed until she was completely bare.

_Perhaps I should be making this harder,_ Katara thought as she spread out against the sheets. But the cool silk against her naked skin argued against that thought.

Patience had never been Katara’s strong suit. Nor Zuko’s. She only hoped that he was not the type to indulge in romance-scroll-type fantasies of wedding nights full of virginal blushes and rose petals. She was not now, nor would she ever be, a blushing bride.

Yet, she knew him. She knew he wouldn’t want that of her. He wanted her exactly as she was – and right now she was past the point of teases and playful banter. Right now, she was delirious with desire. They’d done their waiting. They’d paid their dues, followed the rules. Now there was no decorum. There was only Katara and Zuko and what they wanted.

*_*_*_*

Bidding the last of the guests goodnight, Zuko counted to ten just to make sure they were out of sight before he bolted. He ran the length of the palace to their room, slowing only at the last moment. He caught his breath and opened their door slowly so as not to appear as crazed as he felt.

In front of him, though, lay a sight that collapsed the chaos of his mind into a singularity.

  
Red silk caressed her curves, leaving only the scarcest bit to the imagination. ( _Great_ – now he was jealous of a fabric.) She lay on her side facing him – no, waiting for him – propped up on one elbow. She was perfectly, beautifully naked, holding her head in one hand. The other rested lightly on her hip. A soft smile graced her lips and her eyes sparkled.

There was always so much to say between them. But Zuko’s mouth had run dry.

He swallowed thickly. A trail of discarded clothes marked the path from him to her.

Determined to show at least a semblance of control, Zuko slowly pulled the pin and crown out of his hair, shaking it loose so that it fell over his shoulders in long streams of black. From there, he undressed methodically, following the trail to her, leaving his own clothes in his wake. Her eyes never left him as he worked. But they burned brighter with every article he removed. _Blue,_ Zuko thought, _the hottest part of a flame._

As if she could hear what he was thinking, she blinked up at him as he approached, her blue eyes branding his soul with an intensity that would take a lifetime to appreciate.

Years later, they’d each remember this moment differently. Zuko would tell you that this was the moment when destiny and fate came crashing together and no matter how painful they had been, he wouldn’t trade the lessons he had learned for anything in the world. Katara would tell you that this was the moment that she finally understood how a person could jump in front of a lightning bolt for someone else without even thinking about it.

“Lay back,” he said gently, following her as she did, his body hovering over hers. He stroked her cheek as she fell back against the pillows. Her eyes slipped closed at his touch, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth, her chin, the angle of her jaw.

“I love you,” she said quietly.

Zuko stilled in his movements. He slowly eased himself down until he was lying on top of her, their naked bodies flush against each other. His cock was heavy between her legs, but he did not move.

Instead, he brushed his lips over hers and said, “I love you too.” He kissed her tenderly until Katara carded her hands through his hair and she deepened the kiss. She rocked her hips slowly, rhythmically beneath him and he groaned at the friction.

Before she could do anything else, Zuko placed a hand behind her back and flipped them so he was on his back and she straddled him. He moved quickly under her, holding her hips in place until his head was between her legs. He took a long taste of her and she bucked wildly.

“Stay,” Zuko said, as he dug his fingers into her hips and dragged her back down to him. He licked at her again, more gently, just barely teasing her clit.

“Oh…fuck,” she moaned. She struggled to stay still as he set a rhythm, alternating between fucking her with his tongue and lapping at her clit. “Oh fuck. Fuck, Zuko.” Katara ground down on his face, moving in time with the strokes of his tongue.

_Good?_ he wanted to ask but it came out as “Mmm?”

He scraped his teeth lightly over her clit and she tensed immediately. Her hands flew to his hair, pulling hard. ”Wait!” she nearly sobbed as she jerked away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Katara said, breathing hard. “I want to come with you.”

“Yeah?” Zuko smiled and licked his lips, still tasting her sweetness. He sat up until he was behind her. “I think we can manage that.” He placed a flat palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward. “Lie on your stomach.”

She did. He shifted above her and leaned down to press his lips against the back of her neck. He trailed down her spine, gracing each vertebra with a kiss. His hands ghosted down her sides before kneading into her ass.

“So beautiful.” His voice was low and thick.

Zuko dipped his head again, this time beginning at the base of her spine and kissing all the way down her thighs. He couldn’t help sinking his teeth into the perfect curve of her ass. Katara hissed and he licked away the sting.

“No,” she looked over her shoulder, “do that again.”

He bit and sucked at her until she was whining with need beneath him.

“Zuko, _please_.”

“Please what, beauty?” He smiled against her skin, kissing the love bites that were already blossoming there. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything you want.” He got to his knees.

“I want you inside me.” Her words came in short bursts, escaping between the heaves of her chest. “Please, Zuko. I can’t wait anymore. Please. I want you.”

Her wish was his command.

They both groaned as he slid into her. “You can have me,” Zuko said, filling her. “You can have everything.” He rolled his hips, the position affording him the pleasure of watching his cock disappear inside her with every thrust, only to reappear glistening with her arousal. The sight ripped a growl from somewhere deep in his chest.

Katara arched up, praises and curses spilling from her mouth in equal measure. She was pliant, obeying every silent order of his hands on her hips and his teeth on her skin. The only demand she offered in return was “ _Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop_.”

Heat thrummed through his veins as he picked up his pace, snapping his hips against her ass. Katara was hot and wet and tight – so fucking tight – and positively quaking around him. Her hands were fisted in the sheets so hard that her knuckles were white.

Zuko pulled her up so that her back was flush against his chest. His fingers found her clit, rubbing tight circles as she cried out. “That’s it,” he rasped in her ear. “Come for me, love,” he said, feeling himself tipping over the edge at the same moment.

“Zuko.” She turned to capture his lips, her body still quivering with aftershocks.

“Shhh…” he soothed. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's like a dozen callbacks/parallels/comparisons all sprinkled in. (insert salt bae here)
> 
> lmk whatcha think! how’s my smut writing? ❤️🧡💛


	20. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wassup love bugs. sorry this took a minute. i am back on a very busy rotation. 
> 
> but here we are! let's do two.

* * *

* * *

_I have crossed oceans to find you  
_ _Cut down the forest to see  
_ _The distance between us  
_ _Wasn’t one that could be conquered  
_ _By only me_

_Meet me there, my love  
_ _In the middle of things  
_ _Follow the light  
_ _And trust what it brings_

* * *

* * *

The high of the wedding didn’t die down easily. The palace was bursting with laughter and life in a way it hadn’t in years – decades maybe. In the short time that they knew they had with everyone, the newlyweds weaved in and out between their official duties. A day full of reading reports bled seamlessly into a round or two (or three or four) of fire whiskey with their friends. They’d move effortlessly between a council meeting and teatime with Uncle and Gran Gran. It was almost strange how easy it was, how natural it felt.

*_*_*

A knock at her office door and Katara barely looked up, engrossed in the latest updates from her new clinic in the countryside.

“Um, Katara?” Aang peeked his head in.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are you busy?”

Katara scoffed as she glanced at the state of disarray of her desk. “A little. But, what’s up, Aang?” She finally looked up at him. He was still standing in the doorway. “You can come in, you know.”

“No, it’s fine. Can I borrow you for a minute?”

“Sure, but tell me why. You’re worrying me.”

“It’s really no big deal. But bring your waterskin. We just need a little first aid.”

“WHAT?!” Katara sprung up. “Who’s hurt?”

“Well, I was showing Seya and Yona a few waterbending moves and they, uh…”

“They what?”

“Let’s just say Yona figured out how to make ice,” Aang said, running to keep up with her as she swept down the hall.

When Katara got to her, Seya was holding her arm protectively. Tears streamed down her face as she wailed.

“Shhh, shhh, Seya. It’s okay,” Katara soothed as she knelt before her. “You’re going to be alright. Can Auntie see your arm?”

Seya’s bottom lip trembled but she tentatively held her arm out.

“So brave,” Katara praised as she inspected the wound. It was just a shallow cut along her forearm. “I can make this feel better. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Katara gloved her hand in water and the cut was gone in less than five seconds.

“Is that better?”

“Yes. But it hurt.”

“Sometimes that happens. Sometimes we hurt people when we don’t mean to. But it was an accident.” Katara turned to hold her arm out to Yona who was waiting, silently crying too. “Right, Yona?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Yona said, coming forward to hug Katara and hold her sister’s hand.

“But, even if you didn’t mean to, you still hurt Seya. You need to apologize. Can you tell her that you’re sorry?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For?” Katara prompted.

“Forhurtingyou.” Yona said all at once and lunged forward to hug her sister.

“Good job, girls.” Katara said as they sniffled together. “We can all practice together tomorrow. I don’t think you’re ready for ice yet. But,” Katara said, an idea creeping into her mind, “if you want, you can watch Auntie fight with ice.”

The girls brightened immediately.

*_*_*

Katara gathered the six of them for a group spar in the training arena. Hakoda bounced Seya and Yona on his knee as they watched from the viewing balcony as Sokka, Suki, Aang, Toph, Katara and Zuko argued over teams.

Aang offered a compromise, “Let’s do girls versus boys. That’s nice and fair.”

“No way! Those two can’t be on opposite teams!” Sokka said, pointing to Zuko and Katara. “They’ll go easy on each other.”

“Have you met us?” Katara snapped back. Zuko snickered under his breath.

There was a small shout from the viewing balcony. Seya cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled down to them, “Stop fighting and just fight already!”

In the end, it didn’t matter. They switched teams often enough that everyone got to face everyone else. As promised, Katara didn’t hold back. Against anyone. Least of all her husband.

If the others noticed, they were kind enough not to say anything.

The shadows grew long and their breaths grew heavy.

Katara waved Sokka and Toph over for a final round.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked as they huddled up.

Sokka sighed, “Lose as quickly as possible so we can all go to dinner?”

“No!”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll take care of Suki. Toph, you start the offense against Aang. Katara—”

“Got it.”

“I was going to say, ‘Help Toph.’”

“What about Zuko?”

“He’ll wait for an opening. All we have to do is not give it to him.”

Katara looked over to the opposing team – Aang had an arm slung around Zuko and Suki, discussing strategy. Suki caught her staring and murmured something to her group. And even though he had his back to her, Katara didn’t need to see Zuko to know he was smirking.

It had been too long since they’d sparred. She knew he felt it too.

They took their positions across from each other. Katara kept her head bowed and her eyes closed, listening for the familiar rumble of earth that would tell her the match had begun.

As soon as she heard it, she darted toward the center of the field to where Toph and Aang were already chucking rocks at each other. They’d dug beneath the sand of the arena and were manipulating the earth below. Beyond them, Sokka had Suki on defense and was advancing quickly.

Katara dove in front of Toph and shielded her from a fire blast that Aang shot at her. She reciprocated with a jet of water in his direction to throw him off balance. He stumbled backward before catching it and throwing it back at her. While he was distracted with that, Toph moved the ground beneath his feet and Aang fell.

“You got him?” Katara shouted to Toph.

“Yeah! Go!”

Katara swept her eyes around the arena. Suki was down, but still putting up a fight. Zuko was – she turned in a slow circle – nowhere to be found.

In their matches thus far, Katara had won four against Sokka, four against Suki, three against Toph, one against Aang.

And Zuko?

Two.

And how many had he won against her?

Two.

They normally didn’t keep score when they sparred.

She hadn’t wanted to fight him in years – not since before the war ended. But somewhere along the way, she had started to want to _fight_ him. In their years of silence, she had dreamed of battling him to the point of exhaustion – until they were both breathless and sweaty and he was struggling beneath her. In those days before she had him, she’d dream of his look of defiance – his unwillingness to surrender – and it only made her want him more.

But she dreamed of it just as much now as she did then. Because although they were the furthest thing from silent now, there was something in the way he watched her when they sparred. There were things said between them here that hadn’t found a voice elsewhere. Here, he told her how he saw her as the threat that she was and how he loved her for it. Here, he drew her ferocity out into the open and reveled in it. He challenged her openly because he knew that she could – would – meet it. He baited her and she begged him to do it. She never felt more powerful than when he pinned her to the ground and looked at her like he wanted to devour her.

So, no. They didn’t keep score. They didn’t need to. Didn’t want to.

Katara held a hand out behind her and moved low to the ground as she backed away from Aang and Toph. She had learned that Zuko loved to sneak up behind her. And at least this way she’d—

“NOW!”

Her vision cut out and suddenly consisted only of only hazy brown. She coughed as a swirling dust cloud erupted around her.

Sokka grunted a few yards away. A victorious whoop from Suki rang out a few seconds later.

Katara cursed. She attempted to find the trail of air that was suspending the sand around them, but the dust was thick and Katara couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her face.

Toph yelled out to her, “Katara! Over here! Follow the sound of my voice!”

As she moved in that direction, something flashed in her peripheral vision. Katara spun to follow it. She extended a tendril of water beyond her arm to map what she could not see. When she bumped into something, she tightened her grip, forming a rope of water and yanked it toward her.

Suki appeared head-first out of the dust. Katara tried to rearrange her rope to contain her but wasn’t quick enough to dodge Suki’s sweeping kick at her ankles. Katara went down, crashing to the ground and pulling Suki with her.

“Toph! Help!” she shouted as she and Suki rolled in the sand. Suki was gone a moment later, flying through the air thanks to a launch from Toph.

“One each,” Toph said as a distant thud announced Suki’s defeat. “Now where did – AHHHH!” She screamed as her feet lifted off the ground and an Aang-shaped blob appeared in the dust behind her. “PUT ME DOWN! This isn’t fair!”

Aang laughed, “Whatever you say!”

_Speaking of fair,_ Katara thought as she rained water down on the dust cloud. The air cleared and she could see again just in time to watch Aang build a deep bed of mud and plop Toph into it. For good measure, he laid a thick layer of ice over the top.

“Two to one,” Aang decided as Toph struggled and failed to push out of her confinement.

Katara snapped up at that moment, taking advantage of Aang’s momentary gloating to throw a wave at him, knocking him down. Aang groaned, the wind knocked out of him by the force of her hit. She stood over him, gathering enough water to freeze him to the spot when he grinned up at her. And his was not a smile that said, “thank you for beating me.” It said, “I beat you. You just don’t know it yet.”

Her breath hitched. Katara knew what came next. And she’d be damned if she let him have it. She shot a line of ice daggers behind her without turning around.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._ The ice fell uselessly against the sand, untouched.

She looked over her shoulder, expecting to find Zuko there in the spot where she was seconds ago.

It was empty.

A low whistle re-directed her attention. Katara slowly faced forward and lifted her head.

“Did you really think I’d play that old trick?” Zuko’s voice came from across the arena.

She heard him, but she did not see him as she scanned the arena. The setting sun glared in her eyes.

Zuko stepped out from the shadows of the western wall and walked slowly toward her. The sun at his back rendered him little more than a silhouette.

He held his hands out for her to see as he approached. But in supplication? Sportsmanship? Challenge? Katara couldn’t tell.

His shadow reached her long before he did, and she twitched in anticipation.

She was reminded of the way he had circled her predatorially all those months ago. Back then, he’d kept his eyes locked on her, but stayed just out of her reach. Now, he was coming straight for her with unflinching certainty.

And there was no trick of the light, no hidden intent, no obscure meaning. There was only the rhythm of their give and take as they fell into step.

*_*_*

Afterward, Katara discarded her dusty, sweaty clothes and drew a bath. She swept up her hair and stepped in, sighing heavily as the hot water relaxed her muscles. She splayed her hands across her thighs, kneading the sore spots and recalling the moves that had put them there.

Warmth spread through her as she remembered the lick of his flame. She trailed her hand between her legs and thought of him – his relentless pursuit, the way his eyes never left her.

She dipped her fingers lower. The water couldn’t wash away the slick accumulating there. She circled her clit slowly, the way he would. Where she might set into a rhythm, he would keep her on edge. She pushed her middle finger in and thought of how he would purr in her ear.

The end goal would never be a question – he’d take care of her like he promised he always would. But in the meantime, he’d torture her. He’d relish her every cry, stoking her ever higher, touch by touch, until she begged, until she –

The air, perfumed by the floral scent of her soap, filled with the scent of him – smoke and spice and sweat.

“Am I interrupting something?” Zuko said, as he dropped his robe to the floor, leaving him only in a thin tunic and pants. He sauntered over and knelt by the side of the tub, dipping a hand in the warm water and just barely brushing her skin – just barely brushing over the hand between her legs.

Katara stilled in her movements and looked at him sweetly. Gave him exactly two seconds to pull away.

He didn’t.

And then she yanked him into the tub. A not insignificant amount of water sloshed over the edges.

He glared at her and steam rose around them. His wet clothes clung tightly to him and Katara could see the heave of his chest, the muscles of his thighs, the outline of his cock. He didn’t break eye contact as he peeled away his soggy clothes.

When he finished undressing, she held out a hand toward him, inviting him to her.

He didn’t take it. Instead, he sucked her fingers into his mouth. His mouth closed around them and he groaned low in his throat as he tasted her.

It didn’t matter how many times she had seen this view before. It didn’t matter how many times she had admired the hard muscled planes of his chest because she had never seen water droplets trail down his abs exactly the way they did right now.

She leaned forward to lick them off.

It didn’t matter how many times she’d watched him shake with need because she had never appreciated the quiver of his muscles beneath her fingertips the way she did right now. The water rippled with his silent plea.

She left him wanting as she drew away. He grabbed her and drew her back, hauling her into his lap. His eyes burned with _that_ look.

“You were so good out there,” he said, nipping at any bit of skin he could reach. “I love watching you fight. It always reminds me of that night I accidentally found you in the woods.”

“The one where I threatened you and froze you to a tree?”

“Yes. But you had a good reason. You didn’t trust me. You were just being protective of your friends. Just trying to take care of everyone.”

“How different things are now,” she said, grinding down on him.

His cock was hard against her center and his breath hissed between his teeth as she rocked back and forth. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, mouthing at her collarbone as she teased him.

“Katara.”

It didn’t matter how many times she had listened to him moan her name; she’d never heard this raw note before. And that was her only warning.

Her hands scrabbled to grip his thighs as he pushed up insistently into her. She rocked her hips and he groaned as she took all of him.

Zuko struggled to catch his breath, “Not everything is different now. You still take care of everyone.”

She met his eyes and there was an honesty, an earnestness there.

He flexed his hips and pushed deep into her. “Let me take care of you.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a wish. It was what he had promised.

“Yes,” she whispered before he set a punishing pace. Her eyes slipped closed and her mouth went slack as she gave herself over to the sensation of him. The water splashed with their movements.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Zuko said as he reached up and ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “So soft when you heal a little girl’s cut. So fierce when you fight.” He held her hips as he drove up and into her roughly. “So pretty for me when I fuck you.”

Katara cursed incoherently, unable to respond. She held onto him, her nails digging little crescent moons into his skin that he’d wear for the next week.

“You know what—” he said between thrusts, “—I love most of all?”

She panted a breathless “No.” She was close. His words pushed her right to the edge. But, she tipped back from it, determined to bring him with her. She brought a hand between her legs and bounced on his cock.

“I love that you need me.” He buried his head into her shoulder and bit hard.

Katara came with a shout of his name and he spilled himself inside her.

When she came to, she slurred hazily, “Zuko.”

“Hm?” He pulled her toward him, so she rested against his chest and kissed the top of her head.

They stayed like that for more than a few minutes. The water had cooled around them before Katara spoke again. And when she did, she laced his fingers with hers and kissed them slowly.

“Thank you for loving me. All of me.”

*_*_*

The next day, Zuko watched from the sidelines of the training arena as Seya and Yona acted as Katara’s tiny shadows. They mimed every move she made with varying degrees of success. By the end of their session, they could each produce and somewhat control a stream of water.

“You didn’t want to join us?” Katara asked after they had finished.

“I was working on something,” Zuko answered. He had a scroll spread out over his lap and a brush in his hand. He tilted it toward her for her to see.

Katara gaped. He’d drawn her forms, painstakingly recording her every posture and movement. It was a step-by-step progression of what she had just taught the girls, complete with swirling water streams painted in blue.

“You made a waterbending scroll,” she said still dumbly staring at it.

“I did.” He blew on the ink to dry it. “I know it bothers you that you can’t be around all the time to train the girls. And this isn’t a replacement for that, but I thought we could give it to them so they can keep practicing even when you’re not around to teach them.”

Tears didn’t prickle at her eyes. They didn’t sting. They simply sprung free and streamed down her cheeks. A lump formed in her throat and kept her from speaking.

“And, uh,” Zuko said after a beat of silence. “I’ve been thinking about something you told me a little while ago.”

“What’s that?” Katara managed to say.

“You said that there wasn’t a lot of written materials from the Southern Water Tribe. So, I thought that maybe this would be a good way to make sure that your knowledge is preserved.” He rolled it up and placed it in her hand.

“Zuko…” her voice trembled. “This is the most thoughtful thing. Thank you.”

He wiped away her tears and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t mention it. I owed you a waterbending scroll anyway.”

Zuko would say that – try to downplay it. Because, in truth, he took care of people just like Katara did. He just preferred to do it quietly – to clip lavender to the clothesline. To silently pay for her projects. To spend all morning studying her so closely that he could capture her every pose right down to the curve of her wrist.

The things he did quietly were louder than anything. They said everything.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fake out]
> 
> those are fake "two"s up there. 
> 
> the real one -- the one that this chapter is actually about -- is coming. :)
> 
> babes, your comments make my heart go all thumpy-wumpy in the best way. please lmk how you like this chapter. y'all are truly the sweetest. ❤️🧡💛


	21. Two, continued

* * *

* * *

_I have crossed oceans to find you  
_ _Cut down the forest to see  
_ _The distance between us  
_ _Wasn’t one that could be conquered  
_ _By only me_

_Meet me there, my love  
_ _In the middle of things  
_ _Follow the light  
_ _And trust what it brings_

_May the journey treat you well  
_ _The world is bigger than we thought  
_ _It’ll show you its splendors, horrors and wonders –  
_ _Ones you’ve never sought_

_Meet me here, my love  
_ _When your journey alone is done  
_ _Ours  
_ _Has only begun_

* * *

* * *

One of Zuko’s favorite things about Katara was her adaptability. She transitioned seamlessly into her new role, comfortable in the chaos of it all. She was here and there, darting into his office to give him a kiss before singing “See you tonight,” as she left. Where she went, he didn’t know and couldn’t possibly keep track of. She did everything he did – endowed with equal power at his insistence and equal responsibility at hers. But she made it look easy. She made it look like she was born to do this.

But she wasn’t. Her skills were not bred into her, nor borrowed from a life of study and training. Her abilities had been forged in the fire of her trials and carved out by the ever-flowing river of calamity that had been her life. Katara had learned how to lead not out of duty but out of sheer necessity.

It showed. It showed in her command of a room, the way she carried herself, her fearlessness and tenacity. It spoke of experience and expertise. Her authority was not bestowed but earned. And in that, it was unshakable, indestructible, and undeniable.

As good as she was, she only became better with time. People skills lent themselves to political cunning. Empathy evolved into relentless commitment to service. And the things she learned were the things she taught.

She taught Zuko how to read people. She taught him how to be direct. She taught him how to tell people what he wanted.

In return, he taught her how to wait. He taught her how to see the interconnectedness. He taught her how to ask people what they wanted.

They both knew how to speak decisively. They both knew how to inspire, to move, to lead. But they did it differently. And slowly, ever so slowly, over the years, they melded each other’s style into their own. Never to the point of identicality. Far short of that point. They stopped at cohesiveness. At cooperative. At complementary.

*_*_*

The years rolled on, but time found the names of Fire Lord Zuko and Master Katara everything but identical.

Often in the same breath? Yes.

Commonly referenced in global politics? Yes.

Praised for their judiciousness? Frequently.

Known as Fire Lord and Fire Lady? Sometimes.

Cursed for their strictness on their reforms? Occasionally.

Forgotten? Glossed over? Or otherwise written off to the footnotes of history? Never.

Never. Ever. Ever.

And yet, between it all they were still just Zuko and Katara. Somehow, in the chaos of it all there was room for that too.

There, on Zuko’s wrist sat his reminder of unconditional acceptance. Carved into bone was the promise that there would always be a home in the world for Zuko, just Zuko. There, on Katara’s finger sat her reminder of unwavering loyalty. Tucked between the stones of ice opal was the promise that there would always be a set of open arms that would keep her safe, warm, and protected – that would take care of her.

They took the time to appreciate these promises, even in their day-to-day. They treasured their rituals. Their sparring matches every other day. Their nightly dinner. The unspoken things they did for each other. The way Katara fixed Zuko’s hair in the morning. The way, he noted, she had recently taken to braiding a few strands to hang casually over his shoulders, subtle but not hidden.

Katara had been quieter than usual lately. Sometimes her glances toward him lingered longer than usual. Sometimes she got a far-away look in her eyes. But it wasn’t a look of somberness or fatigue. It was like she was searching for something. And every so often, a little line would crease her brow – as if she were afraid of what she might find.

What between them there was left to fear, Zuko couldn’t place.

And although it worried him, he trusted her.

He asked her one morning as she combed his hair, “Katara, is there anything you want to talk about?”

“What do you mean?”

He picked up a braid and twirled it between his fingers, “This.”

“Do you not like it?”

“No, I do. It’s just – does this mean something?”

Katara breathed a laugh, warm and gentle. “Do you want it to mean something?”

“I…” he started, unsure of where that sentence was headed. He had meant to ask about her, but she’d flipped the script on him. He met her eyes in the mirror and they were open but hesitant. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not sure I know either. For now, though,” she bent down to cup his face in her hands. She kissed his scarred cheek gently and said, “It looks good on you.”

*_*_*

They only did the things that only they could do. They grew into the people that they needed to be – that they had always wanted to be. They borrowed bits and pieces of each other to form something entirely new.

“Fire Lady Katara?” A servant poked their head through her office door. “Are you ready to submit the budget?”

“It’s fine with me but I gave it to Zuko last week to read over. Ask him.”

“Very good, Master Katara.”

The servant crossed the hall to Zuko’s office.

“Fire Lord Zuko? Are you ready to submit the budget? I need to make copies for the council meeting.”

“It’s fine with me. But ask Katara if she’s done with it.”

“She said to ask you, sir.”

“What did she say?”

“She said it was fine with her.”

“Then, yes. Go ahead.”

They worked tirelessly as parents to a nation in its infancy. (Or perhaps more accurately – a nation in its terrible twos. There were manners to be taught and growing pains to be soothed.)

Katara took it all in stride, a skilled sailor of stormy seas. Zuko made sense of the minutiae, a master mapmaker. They were captain and compass.

*_*_*

Zuko watched her hands move in a pattern as she braided his hair. He’d been studying her for weeks. _Grab. Over. Under. Pull it taut. Grab. Over. Under._

Katara watched him, watching her. She paused in her movements and finally asked, “Would you like to try?”

“Me?” he said, surprised that he’d been caught. “No. I’d just mess it up.”

“Zuko.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just curious.”

“Curious, but you don’t want to try?”

“I don’t want to mess it up.”

Katara shooed him from the seat in front of the vanity and they switched positions. He stood behind her as she pulled the pins from her own hair and her crown of braids fell out.

“You won’t mess it up,” she reassured him as his face contorted with worry. “Come on. Come try.”

“Katara, I—”

“Go on. You can do it. We’ll figure it out together.”

*_*_*

That day, the next day, and for many days after that, Katara’s braids were perhaps a little looser, a little different than the way she usually arranged them. But they were spun into something beautiful. Something she couldn’t create on her own.

And one day, as Zuko nestled her crown into place and kissed the top of her head, a red orchid stayed in place where his lips had been.

“I do want it to mean something,” he said.

Katara kept her gasp almost inaudible as she met his eyes in the mirror. Full of questions, full of apprehension, but full, most of all, of conviction.

*_*_*

“Should we talk about it?” he asked her as they settled into bed that night.

Their room was dark, lit only by a pair of candles just bright enough to guide them to bed. No brighter.

Katara played with the delicate petals of the orchid for a moment and held it to her nose. The flower’s perfume was barely there, masked by much stronger scent of sandalwood and smoke that floated everywhere Katara wanted to be. She laid the orchid on her bedside table and climbed under the blankets with him.

“Yes,” Katara said to answer his question. “We should talk about it.”

She laid on her side, facing him. The words they spoke would remain only in this space, far away from the rest of the world. Hidden in the safe harbor between him and her.

“Where should we start?” she asked.

“Tell me what you’ve been thinking about lately.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

_We’ll figure it out together._

“I’ve been thinking that we work well together,” she said, opening her eyes to watch his reaction. “I’ve been thinking that I love figuring things out with you. That I feel like we’ve both done great things in our lives, but some of the best things have come when we’ve worked together. I’ve been thinking that…” she trailed off.

“It’s okay,” Zuko said. “You can say it.”

Katara had never had trouble being direct. If anything, she was too direct. She would tell people exactly what she wanted and exactly when she wanted it. But this had been weighing on her for some time. She didn’t know exactly when the thought entered her mind, but it crystalized one day not too long ago when she twisted three strands of his hair together and felt an unmistakable and insurmountable longing for something that didn’t exist yet.

They’d been through so much together – conquered foes and fears and found their way back together. Their relationship was littered with the losses and victories of battles both internal and external.

They weren’t ones to shy away from challenge. And Katara knew the challenges that this next step in their relationship would bring. But the difference now is that this challenge was completely elective. It would be utterly self-inflicted sleeplessness and headaches and worry. It wouldn’t be something thrust upon them by chance and circumstance. It would be their choice.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started again. She wanted the challenge of it. She wanted it with him, because of him. “That we should have a baby.”

Zuko reached for her hands and kissed her knuckles. “Is there a ‘but’ after that sentence?”

“But I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too. Terrified actually.”

“Is there a ‘but’ after that sentence?”

“But I want to talk about it,” he answered, stroking her hair. “What are you scared of?”

“Both Sokka and I were surprises. My mom had a few miscarriages before Sokka and so she didn’t think that she could carry a baby. But then he came along, and he stayed. My parents were overjoyed. But they never thought they’d be able to have two. Then I came along.”

“And you stayed.”

“My mom had to work hard to keep me. The healer in our village told her that the pregnancy was very fragile. She gave my mom tea to drink and told her that if she wanted to keep me, she would have to be very careful.”

“And?”

“And she was. She was. So here I am.”

“She loved you before she even knew you.”

“She did. She did everything for me.”

“She was a good woman. It’s clear where you get it from.”

Katara smiled weakly and wished she could live up to her mother. To be half the woman she was. To be half as selfless–

“Hey,” Zuko said, pulling on her hand, pulling her back. “You’re good too. You’re already a good woman like her. You’ll be a good mother like her if you want to be.”

“I do.”

He moved to kiss her, but she stopped him with a finger on his lips.

“That’s not all.”

He nudged her finger out of the way. “What else?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“It takes two,” Katara said. “I want to know what you want.”

“I want…” he said slowly, trying to disentangle emotions from logic in his head. 

And now it was her turn to comfort. Katara cupped the left side of his face and ran her thumb along the rough skin there.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Zuko fell back against the pillows. “My parents wanted me,” he sighed. “Or at least, they planned on me. Then my father met me and decided that he didn’t want me anymore.”

Katara placed one hand over his heart, the other behind his head and pulled him into her embrace. She held him there for a moment before she said, “That’s terrible.”

“It is. But you know what’s worse?” He didn’t have to speak loudly. She was so close. Even if she weren’t, she could have picked apart the frayed edge of his voice.

“What?”

“He kept me for a while anyway.”

Katara had no words for him. She just held him tighter.

“I think I always knew, though. I knew he never wanted me.” Zuko extinguished the candles and the room went dark.

“I’m so sorry, Zuko.”

“It’s over.”

“You know you’re wanted now, right?”

He sighed again. Not out of exasperation, but because the weight of the moment crushed the air out of his lungs. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry it took so long for you to hear it.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “I just want our children to hear it from the moment they are born.”

“What will you tell them?”

A sound escaped him. An attempt at naming the tightness he felt in his chest. A word to describe this feeling of sorrow for a thing that doesn’t exist anymore and longing for a thing that is yet to exist.

But words fell short. He prayed she understood.

She understood.

“Tell me what you want, Zuko.”

“I want to try.”

*_*_*

Trying became their new favorite “to-do” item. They’d block off a few hours in the afternoons for crucial “planning meetings.” Invitees: Master Katara and Fire Lord Zuko. Location: undisclosed. Dress code: irrelevant.

If anyone noticed their absence, they said nothing. But their council and staff couldn’t help but notice that the Fire Lord and Lady were in much better moods than usual.

That is, until Katara wasn’t. She usually slept every night tucked into the warmth of Zuko’s embrace. But she’d woken up one night too hot to breathe, too distressed to properly convey that, and too overwhelmed by it all that she spent the rest of the night laid out on the cool marble of their bathroom floor. Zuko brought their pillows and lay down beside her, careful not to touch her too much.

When morning came, for one of the very few times in their life, Katara woke Zuko up. She jostled him awake and he’d barely opened his eyes when she yelled, “What are you doing here?”

“Wha?” Zuko rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up. His joints creaked in protest of the night spent on the unforgiving floor. At twenty-seven, he was far from old. But stone was far from comfortable.

“Why are you here?” she yelled again.

“You had a rough night and you wanted to sleep here,” Zuko answered, unfazed.

“I know why _I’m_ here. Why are _you_ here?”

“I go where you go.”

She pivoted from angry to upset in a fraction of a second. Her brow furrowed and her voice cracked. “But you didn’t need to – this is so uncomfortable—” Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. “Why would you—”

“Katara, shhh. Here,” he opened his arms to her. “Do you want a hug?”

“Too hot,” she blubbered but fell into his arms anyway and cried.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, sweetheart.” His fingers traced the familiar patterns against her skin.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?” she said softly.

“Do you want me to?”

“This isn’t how I thought I would tell you,” she said as they both sat in the middle of their bathroom. Their hair was disheveled; his eyes were a little dark from a fitful night and hers were red-rimmed from crying. But the bright morning sunlight streamed in around them and Zuko couldn’t help but laugh.

“How many things have turned out like we thought they would?”

“You mean like the crystal catacombs? Or that night in the forest when I almost killed you? Or when you took a lightning bolt for me? Or when you tried to get yourself killed by wolf-panthers trying to keep a secret from me? Or—”

He stopped her. “Yes. Like any of those.” He laughed again.

She laughed along with him. “I can’t wait to tell them all the stupid things their parents have done.”

“You’ll be talking for a while. Wait—” Katara smiled and watched the realization dawn on him. “—them?”

He looked at her, wide-eyed and reverent. His gaze flicked downward momentarily before he whispered, “How many?”

“Two.”

For several paralyzing seconds he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He looked like he might cry. Katara’s heart thumped against her chest and she wondered if she should have waited to tell him. She couldn’t be more than seven or eight weeks along. But twins gave her more hormones than a single baby would, and it had been wreaking havoc on her mentally and physically.

Slowly, he came back to her. The look on his face was familiar and she recognized it from a lifetime ago when she had given him the shadow lamp and he had been mesmerized by the dancing shadow. She recognized it from a few years ago when they were declared husband and wife and Zuko put his hand on the back of her neck and held her there for a moment before he kissed her. She recognized it from every morning that she woke up and found him idly tracing patterns against her skin. This look, she realized, was one of gratitude. One that could only be worn by a man who had known the deepest poverty, both literal and emotional. It was a look that told his story of ruin and restoration.

Zuko leaned forward, dropping his forehead against hers. Katara took a few deep breaths in and out and he matched her.

They stayed like that for several minutes, reveling in the quiet moment of joy and uninterested in anything but the tiny world they had created. The tiny world that was now grew within her.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> random chapter notes in no particular order because i am tired:
> 
> Soooo… remember Zuko’s finger kisses back at the end of four? He said “I’m yours” three times. Once for Katara. And once for each of his twins. 🥰 There’s my attempt at foreshadowing. 
> 
> orchid = fertility. red for passion/romance.
> 
> i just really wanted to put in that classic situation where a kid wants something and they go to one parent and that parent says, "idk ask your mom/dad." and the kids goes and asks the other parent and that one is like "idk ask your mom/dad" / "i did"/ "what did they say?" / "they said yes." / "well then sure."
> 
> i've been trying to play up the whole momtara and dadko personality traits for a little while now without being too obvious. zuko and katara are natural caretakers of others and i wanted to show that side of them for a while _before_ they had kids. i didn't want the babies to feel like a shock. i hope they feel like a natural progression of the story.
> 
> lmk your thoughts, babes. comments make me ridiculously happy. i LOVE to hear what y'all are thinking as you read this. ❤️🧡💛


	22. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, dudes, babes, and love bugs: this piece has been such a bright (and at times frustrating!) spot in my day-to-day life and I thank you for making this little hobby of mine so much more enjoyable. I’ve always loved to write but sharing it with others is a whole new level of joy. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> Let me guide you to our end.

* * *

* * *

_One is not half of two  
_ _Two halves are one_

_-e.e. cummings_

* * *

* * *

If anyone ever told Katara that carrying twins was simply “double the love, double the joy!” she would have kicked them in the shins. It was also double the swollen ankles, double the mood swings, and double the morning sickness. Zuko did what he could – rubbed her feet, held her when she cried (and backed away slowly when she screamed (then came running back to hug her when she cried about losing her temper.))

He made ginger tea to help with her nausea and had it ready every night before dinner.

“Hello beauty,” Zuko greeted when Katara sat down at the table.

“Don’t call me that. I’m a hippo-cow and you know it.”

“You are not. You’re pregnant.”

“Very pregnant,” she amended, rubbing her hands over her belly.

“And very beautiful.”

“Yeah, well this beautiful hippo-cow wants to able to walk without waddling again.”

“You will.” Zuko looked down at her belly and swallowed thickly. “Very soon.”

Servants brought in their meals and set them down on the table. Katara groaned at the same moment as one of the twins kicked her in the diaphragm.

“I know, I know. I’m hungry too,” she said in a soothing voice directed downward. She winced as they kicked again and turned her face toward her husband with a grimace. “Zuko, your children are misbehaving.”

He gave her a look of sympathy. “Maybe they’ll like this,” he said, lifting the cover off her plate.

“Is that…?”

“Sea prune stew with a side of seal jerky,” Zuko said proudly. “You said you were craving it, so I sent out for the ingredients.”

Over the past eight months, he’d seen Katara go from seething to sobbing in the same breath. He’d dried her tears more times than he could count, and only rarely did he know why she was crying. But even he could make the connection between his gesture and the little hiccups that now punctuated Katara’s sniffles.

“Zuko, if you do one more nice thing for me, I swear,” she blubbered, “I am going to kick your butt.”

He chuckled as he dabbed at her tears with a napkin. “Somehow I’m not too worried about that.”

“Why not?” she said, looking offended.

“You would have to catch me first, Master Waddletara.”

*_*

Cramps and small contractions can be a normal part of late pregnancy. Katara knew this. She had explained this to Zuko many times, who despite all her reassurance, still held his breath every time she so much as winced.

Which is exactly why when she woke up one morning to a feeling stronger than usual, she got up, got dressed, and sat down to breakfast before she said anything about it. By that time, she’d had another two or three of what could definitively be called contractions. Painful, but nothing she couldn’t handle. About twenty minutes apart…maybe fifteen.

At breakfast, Katara waited to say anything until Zuko didn’t have a mouth full of food or tea. She would rather that her husband not choke before he got the chance to meet his children.

“So,” she said casually. Too casually, she realized as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. She spoke as if she hadn't noticed, “I’ve had a few contractions." She took a sip of her tea and continued, "Real ones.”

Most of the times that Katara had seen Zuko move fast were times she _hadn’t_ seen him. He was stealthy and quick.

(Well, normally he was.)

But today, his chair clattered to the floor as he flew out of it to be at her side. He all but fell over himself.

“What?!?! When did this—Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You’re answering your own ques—” Her words fell apart as another came on.

Zuko's eyes widened. "Do you need to lie down? Or no, wait, that’s not until later. Do you want to walk? I’ve-heard-walking-helps.” His words began to run together.

“Zuko, sweetheart. Love of my life. My sun and sky,” she held his hand and smiled at him. Waited for him to smile back before she said, “Shut the fuck up. You’re panicking and there’s no reason to panic. It’s just a contraction. And they’re still pretty far apart. This could take hours or even days.” The worst of the contraction resolved as she spoke.

“DAYS?”

“Possibly,” she said casually and went back to sipping her tea.

“Why are you so calm?!”

“Well one of us has to keep it together. I can do it for now, but at some point, I am going to have to tap out.” She quirked an eyebrow at him and smirked. “But until then, enjoy your freak out, my dear. I’ll be over here enjoying my tea.”

“Katara!”

“Oh, lighten up, Zuko. Everything will be alright.”

*_*

Everything would indeed be alright. Because every worry, every fear, everything would be condensed into a moment in time — one particular moment of no special significance other than the huff of Katara’s straining groan as she worked with all her might, and the pressure of Zuko’s hand holding hers as she focused all her strength. That moment in time stretched to contain everything they had ever been to each other — strangers, enemies, allies, friends, lovers, strangers again, lovers again, partners. It stretched a little more to make room for what they would now be to each other.

And then –

A beat.

A heartbeat.

Two heartbeats long.

And then –

A set of cries.

And four breaths exhaled in one moment.

*_*

Several weeks later, Katara lay propped up on one elbow, watching their babies sleeping peacefully in the bassinet next to their bed. The early morning light filtered in from the window and cast shadows across their tiny faces. Zuko lay behind her, peeking over her shoulder. He nuzzled into her neck and she felt him smile against her skin when a little coo arose out of the bassinet.

“Did you ever feel like this was inevitable?” she asked into the quietness of the room. She let the question hang in the air. It stayed suspended there, simultaneously anchored by their past and buoyed by their future.

She felt a tug from behind her. She turned to face him.

Zuko had fully intended to answer her question. But when she turned and he was met with those deep blue eyes shining in the soft morning light, he suddenly forgot how to speak.

Katara still knew how to but didn’t much care to. Not when those warm golden eyes were looking back at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and melted into him when he sighed into her mouth.

He grazed her lips with his own to tell her, “Good morning. I love you.” She used her tongue to respond, “I love you too. So much.”

They laid there unwilling to surrender the other, the world suspended around them. Engrossed, enraptured with only the moment in front of them, he’d forgotten that she’d asked him a question.

She kissed the words out of him, insistent as always.

He chuckled softly at her impatience. “I believe that we make our own destinies. But I will tell you,” he paused, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing each of her fingertips, one by one. “I can’t imagine a life where I didn’t love you. I can’t imagine any version of me that isn’t twisted up in you. You can call that fate or inevitable or whatever you like.” His eyes flicked to the bassinet where Kaza and Kya were cooing softly.

“Do you think we will ever tell them our story?” Katara asked.

“If they want to know.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Why would they?” he countered.

“It’s a good story, Zuko.”

“Says you. You lived it.”

“You lived it too.”

“What’s your point?”

“Would you do it again? Would you re-live it?”

Zuko didn’t answer – not because he didn’t want to, but because he was busy doing exactly what she had just said. He was re-living it. Katara spoke and his memory kept spinning.

“Will you tell it to them? Will you tell them about all our moments?” she asked as Zuko’s mind brushed the sand off a memory from years and years ago.

_‘What would you do for me to forgive you?’_

_‘Anything.’_

“The good moments?” Katara asked.

_‘I want my anything.’_

“The bad?”

_When she left._

“The ones laced with pain?”

_When she snapped the flower in half._

“The ones laced with the most complete happiness possible?” Her voice was far away.

_The first time she told me she loved me. Every time since then._

_That night on the ship._

_When she agreed to marry me._

_When she married me._

_When she told me she was pregnant._

_When I met our children._

_This moment._

She placed a hand on his face to draw him back to the present. “Will you tell them?”

“It _is_ a good story,” Zuko said after a moment.

“Is that a yes?”

He nodded, “I’ll tell them the truth.”

“And what is that?”

“The truth is, I’ve been drawn to you from that moment in the crystal catacombs,” he said, reaching over her to tuck the blanket back into Kaza’s swaddle that he had wriggled out of. “Every moment since then – the good, the bad, the painful, the joyful – has just been another step toward where we are now. And having been on the journey for as long as I have, I can tell you with complete certainty,” he said, returning to her and leaning down to place a tender kiss on her lips. “I am not whole without you.”

“Not whole without you,” she repeated, allowing the words to brand her soul.

“You, my love,” he continued, “are my perfect complement. My partner and my equal. Two halves of the same whole. We are two, but we are one.”

“One,” she agreed.

* * *

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Congrats on making it through the countdown. ❤️

You never have to read these end notes if you don’t want to. But if you do, here are a few final thoughts:

**A note on my inspiration for this story:**

I just wanted to write a love story. That is all I set out to do. I ended up talking about mistakes and forgiveness and self-worth and courage. After writing this, I realize that these elements are what makes Zuko and Katara so compelling, both as individual characters and as a couple. These are the things that make them _them._ These are the things we love about them – the things we relate to.

In the end, I hope this story reads as I intended it – a story that shows the formation of love. Self-love. The love of friends. The love of family. And of course, the romantic love of two soulmates.

**A note on themes:**

These characters are nuanced. And that makes them interesting. As much as I’ve tried to explain things in my notes and show things in my writing, there are things that I can’t explain perfectly or things that you are going to interpret differently. And that’s okay! Nuance is good. Humans are not dichotomous creatures. Which brings me to my themes:

  * **Mistakes** : People are messy. Humans are so deeply flawed. We make so many mistakes. And we make them all the goddamn time. This is not to say that mistakes are harmless. But they are a crucial part of the human experience. Learn from them. _Learn what it feels like to be forgiven. Learn what it feels like to forgive._
  * **Courage part 1** : Be brave enough to know what you’re worth. Be brave enough to know that you’re worthy. Know that you should always be treated with respect. That you’re worthy of love.
  * **Courage part 2** : Be brave enough to love someone. It’s a terrifying thing to really love someone. You must make yourself very vulnerable. And there is SO MUCH strength in that vulnerability. To be soft is to be powerful.
  * **Forgiveness** : Forgiveness lies in the hands of the person who has been wronged. And they do not have a responsibility to forgive. Forgiveness is not a right. It is earned. But, in general, most people are capable of earning it. People, in general, are worthy of redemption.
  * **Love** : Love is infinitely complicated, and we talk about only an infinitesimal few of its facets here. 
    * Love between two adults in a romantic relationship should be equal. Equal respect. Equal responsibility. It’s a partnership. You are each other’s teammate. You are each other’s biggest advocate. With the right person, you will give so much but you will receive so much. They give you what you cannot give yourself and vice versa. You depend on each other. You are partners and equals, aligned in what you want out of life and committed to give that to each other.
  * **Change** : People change and grow. One’s past may be unerasable, but it does not have to command one’s future. People are capable of learning from their mistakes and changing for the better. Change is healthy and should be recognized and celebrated.



**A note on callbacks:**

All of the parallels and callbacks were my way of showing that Zuko and Katara are two sides of the same coin. Their journeys mirror each other. They chase each other, oftentimes to a frustrating degree. But, as you can see, they figure it out in the end. But along the way, they have a similar way of trying to work things out. They respond similarly to situations. They’re soulmates and they act like it. Even when they don’t know it. I also wanted to highlight the way they grow and change throughout the story.

I tried to put some thought into exactly how this story would be told, by whom, and how it would all be revealed. I tried to play with language and parallelisms and metaphors and symbolism. Sometimes I tried to direct your attention away from something only to bring it back up chapters later. I wanted to show you how things changed. I hope all that came across and I hope it contributed to your enjoyment.

**A note on the structure of the story:**

I got the idea to call it “Countdown” when I started thinking about inevitability.

I thought about how there are axioms of math and physics. How some things are inarguable truths. The order of the natural numbers is one of those things. A progression from 10 to 9 to 8 to 7 and so on is inevitable. To try and stop it would be an exercise in futility. _To try and keep these two from each other would be an exercise in futility._ _Their compatibility is an axiom._

I ALSO thought about funny feeling that comes along with a countdown when an **anesthesiologist puts you to sleep before surgery**. I thought about how it feels to trust someone and to be guided along. I thought about how your mind kind of goes through these different stages. First is feeling fully alert (Ten, Nine, Eight). These are the chapters with canon re-telling interwoven. You, the reader, are fully alert here, right? Because you know what’s going on; I’m just telling you a story you already know. Then you start to feel a little weird like, “wait what’s happening? Am I supposed to feel this way? I don’t know what’s going on anymore. This is so strange.” Sometimes there’s a little fear/apprehension at this stage. (Seven, Six, Five, Four). That’s why I say that there’s a certain point that the story draws out. That’s when you’re kind of fighting the anesthesia, trying to stay awake. Time seems to dilate. Then, you just get all warm and fuzzy and fall asleep happy (Three, Two, One).

I hope that there are things for you to enjoy whether you analyze this story word-for-word or from ten-thousand feet. I hope all the specific callbacks make you say, “oh!” and that the overall structure provides a framework that when you step back, you can see how the whole thing is one cohesive story interwoven with common themes that ultimately culminates in the inevitable ending that I promised it would.

**And finally, a note to all of you:**

You have all inspired bits and pieces of this story in innumerable ways. I read your comments and I got ideas. I read other fics and I got ideas. I saw the emotion that people can paint into their art and I got ideas. This is a community of insanely talented people.

I appreciate every single person who has read, commented, or talked to me elsewhere. To all the darlings who were repeat commenters, hanging out with me during multiple chapters, a very special I LOVE YOU and thank you to you.

Thanks for coming on this ride with me! I had so much fun writing this.

Until next time. ❤️


	23. Zero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EPILOGUE:  
> A little love letter to the Zutara fandom. ~~To the greatest thing that never was.~~ To the greatest thing that always will be.

* * *

* * *

_At the end as at the start  
_ _And through all the in-betweens  
_ _I love you_

_-amal el-mohtar_

* * *

* * *

“Wait…” she said, looking up one night with Kaza at her breast. “If we are equal and opposites, how do we make one? If you add negative one and positive one together, that makes zero.”

The family was gathered in a drawing room enjoying the peace of a quiet evening.

“Hmmm…” Zuko was playing with Kya on the rug and he turned toward Katara when she spoke. “I don’t think I have a good answer for you, love. Maybe we are a zero-sum game. Maybe we aren’t meant to make sense to anyone but ourselves.”

“Maybe the universe never meant for us to exist,” she teased.

“Maybe we never existed at all…” Zuko teased back, lifting Kya above his head and smiling as she giggled.

“We exist, my love,” Katara said as she tickled her son’s nose and watched his golden eyes crinkle, the firelight reflecting in his eyes so perfectly like his father’s. “You and I have always been inevitable. Like the moon and the tides. Like the sunrise and the sunset. Maybe our fates are perfect equal opposites in eternal balance. But our choices are aligned in one direction. I’ll choose you forever and I know you’ll choose me forever. And in that we are infinite.”

-#-

(really)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lil epilogue is a reference to them never “officially” being together. That their arcs, in canon, though wrought with natural development, perfect parallels, and a thematically appropriate indication that they should be together, amounted to a zero-sum game. Their whole exchange here, and especially, “Maybe we never existed at all” is my little jab at the way the official series portrays them at the end. Please accept this fic as my vehement disagreement with the last few scenes of the series. *jab jab*
> 
> They are so much more than a zero-sum game. Because we made them that way. I adore the transformative power of fandom. After all, one of the greatest thing you can do as a FF writer is be dissatisfied with canon and say “Fuck it! I’ll write it myself.” So here they are, written out. Here they are saying, declaring, shouting: “We exist, my love.”
> 
> No one can ever say that they’re nothing. They’re everything. And I can think of at least ten reasons why. Would you like me to count them for you? ;)
> 
> Bye for real, babes. ily.
> 
> ❤️🧡💛
> 
> -kay

**Author's Note:**

> hang out with me on [tumblr](https://fiyazu-lorko.tumblr.com)  
> ❤️


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